Witch's Soul
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: the long-awaited story, and first ever cross-over between Soul Calibur and Wicked. A certain green-skinned witch has vanished into Earth of the 17th century, abandoning her loved ones on a lost world. Following the visions of an oracle, Glinda the Good finds herself alone in a new world, fighting for her life and for Elphaba's. Musical-verse, set in SCV, sequel to "The Land"
1. Glinda the Good

**(AN: Ladies and gentlemen, fan-fiction authors alike, chroniclers of the Tale of the Sword and Royal Historians of Oz alike, welcome to this very first crossover between _W__icked_ and _Soul Calibur_. I have advertised this on practically every story of mine, you have waited many long months for any indication, and now here it is! Welcome, fellow Ozians, to the new stage of history!)  
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**(Yes, _Witch's Soul_ is finally here! [rejoice with me!]. There is a brief prologue, this chapter, which will get you up to speed on what is happening for those who have not read the other stories of the _Ozian Adventures_ series [_Another World_ through _OA: The Land_]. Please read them: they have moderate degrees of success, but I am indeed of suggestions for the continuation of the _Ozian Adventures_ series after this story is done.)  
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**(Okay, particulars that you need to know. _Soul Calibur_ setting is in _SCV_ [yeah, I'm trying something completely different from my usual _SC_ fics], before the events of the story take place. _Wicked_ setting is musical-verse: Fiyeraba is the canonical pairing [in this story, at least], but there are strong hints of Gelphie-friendship. Last but not least, I do not own either _Wicked_ or _Soul Calibur_, or _Lord of the Rings_ or any other licensed works that may be referenced in this story.)  
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**(Now...enjoy!)  
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**Glinda the Good**

_"There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it." - Gautama Buddha_

In every age, there is good to challenge the evil, a light to shine out as a beacon of hope when all hope is lost and the darkness is closing in. Good is a maxim we ascribe to, we adhere to, we celebrate goodness. Though we cannot clearly define goodness, we can see it or the lack thereof in others.

But are people born good, or do they choose to be good?

In a world beyond the Moon and behind the Rain called Oz, there lived a girl named Galinda Upland. She lived most of her life in the mid-upper-class lifestyle of Gilikin, the northern country of Oz, where she was raised as the daughter of Larena G. Arduenna, a very wealthy and influential matriarch. From an early age she was given everything she wanted, and so grew into a mean-spirited, spoiled young woman.

Until she met another young woman with green skin. By the winds of fate, she was tied to her from the very start, in their days at university. Though both young women lived in hateful spite of each other, the green-skinned woman taught Galinda, by her passive example, how to feel remorse. In exchange, Galinda taught green-skinned Elphaba how to love.

By a bizarre and unexpected twister of fate, Galinda, now calling herself Glinda, found herself at the forefront of Ozian politics as spokeswoman, public figure and ambassador for goodness. Elphaba, however, was made into an enemy, hated for her green skin and her disloyalty towards the Great and Tyrannical Wizard of Oz. They lived out their lives in private remorse of each other, until their mutual love of a young prince tore them asunder as he chose Elphaba over Glinda. Out of spite, Glinda betrayed her friend, causing her sister to die and Oz clamoring for the death of the Wicked Witch of the West.

In the end, she died and Glinda died inside as well: she loved Elphaba as her dearest friend in all of Oz. But on a fateful night, but a few weeks after Elphaba's supposed death, Glinda received a daring invitation into another world, where she discovered Elphaba and the prince, alive and well. Over the next year, she followed Elphaba and Prince Fiyero through the worlds they traveled, until they both were far and away, lost from Oz.

The hands of fate struck again, and the living Elphaba was struck down with a terrible disease of the mind, courtesy of the trickster god of the North. In the dead of the night, Elphaba vanished, leaving behind her husband Fiyero and their infant child. Glinda spent her days wracked with sorrow, until she received a vision. Now, with determination in her heart, she sets out alone on a new quest to save her friend before all is lost.

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**(AN: The quote at the beginning is something from _Sophitia: A Tale of Love_, but it's just for the first chapter: won't be too habitual.)**

**(We'll see much more story in the next chapter, so don't worry. And don't feel shy or hesitant: write the reviews, ask the questions, suggest the suggestions! Your input fuels the story!)  
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	2. Where Am I?

**(AN: One prologue, and already people are clamoring for more! [lol]. Good, good, hopefully I can deliver.)  
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* * *

**Where Am I?**

_Sweet Oz!_ Glinda thought to herself. _That was one whopper of a headache!_

The last time her head hurt that awfully, she had a little too much mead at the hall of Meduseld. But this wasn't alcohol-fueled, this headache. The last thing she recalled was the red-haired double of herself casting a spell: it hit her straight in the head, and before she could yodel "Popular" five times fast, she was speaking a spell she had never heard herself speak before, and never knew she could do it.

She was now awake, that was all that mattered. Oppman's garage was nowhere to be found, so that meant the spell worked. But where exactly she was now was another issue entirely. For the moment, however, it wasn't entirely important: she was alone, and therefore safe.

Looking down at herself, she saw that she was still clad in the Burgundian dress she had worn since she left Midgard with the others. Her long, blond hair was also braided, as it had been: braided and filthy. She couldn't remember the last time she had a proper bath, and it was starting to annoy her: Larena Upland didn't raise no filthy slob, that was for certain.

She looked down at her hands, which were resting upon two things lying at her sides. In the right hand she saw a short staff, topped with a cap of silver. This, she remembered, was one of the gifts given to Elphaba after her marriage to Fiyero: so far, all they had discerned of its potential was that it had a sliver of Glinda's old staff in it, which allowed her to be healed from grievous injury. The silver cap had writing on it, but what it was and what it said Glinda did not know.

In her left hand, she saw the tiny scrying crystal her red-haired duplicate had given her. It would focus in on whatever her heart desired to see, so she had been told. She took her hand off the staff, then lifted the tiny orb in both of her hands.

"Show me Elphaba Thropp!" she said to the glass orb.

The ball went dark, like the fathomless ocean covered in fog. For a moment, there was a flash of green, but it went out and nothing but darkness filled the insides. Glinda tried again and again, but the only thing the crystal showed her was darkness.

"Okay," she sighed, then began to think long and hard. Just because it couldn't show Elphaba's whereabouts didn't mean she wasn't still alive. She was a very powerful witch, and could have made herself unseen to all eyes, or cast some spell of concealment around her. While she thought, she remembered the ones she had left so unceremoniously behind in the lost land of Maaptia.

"Show me Fif...I mean, Fiyero Tiggular, Nessarose Thropp and Liir Tiggular!"

The blackness swirled about within the confines of the crystal, like the movement of the great ocean. It slowly cleared, and Glinda saw Fiyero pacing nervously in the dimly-lit garage belonging to their odd friend Oppman. Sitting nearby was Nessarose, alive and whole again, nursing baby Liir. The doctor who had tried and failed to secure Elphaba's health had given them instruction about how to nurse a baby, but there were no nurses in the town of Meraburg: at least none willing to help them.

For the moment, all looked well on the surface. They were alive, but Glinda noticed that they all were on edge about something. A thought entered her mind that she hadn't considered previously: she had left Maaptia, and now they were missing both Elphaba and her. Missing was probably not the right word: worried was closer to the mark. True, she had saved Fiyero during the Battle of the Morannon, but she was actually rather useless when it came to fighting, or even lengthy travel through hostile territory. They thought she had ran off after her Elphie and was now lost somewhere in a strange world.

"Oh, Fifi," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to rescue Elphie. You wouldn't understand..."

You weren't there, she finished silently. She had been there, however: at the attic of the Emerald Palace, when she had betrayed Elphaba. She had been there also, when she betrayed Elphaba to the Wizard, causing Nessarose's death. She had caused her so much trouble in Oz, so much that she felt rotten and hateful of herself. Now she was doing everything she could to make it up: she would be there for Elphaba, she would choose her this time.

"_Oui_?"

The voice that spoke was not hers, and it didn't belong to anyone from the glass. Turning around, Glinda saw a young girl, no older than she had been at Shiz. She was dressed in the cutest little outfit she had ever seen: black, with white lace and a cute little skirt that went just to her knees. A cloak was wrapped about her shoulders, with a hood covering her head. Out of the hood there appeared white curls, though this young girl certainly didn't look like she belonged with white hair.

"Eh, _pardonnez-mois_," the stranger said. "_Qui êtes-vous?_"

The young girl's language was different, yet strangely familiar. It reminded her of what some of the people of Worms used to speak.

"Uh," she replied. "Is this Midgard?"

"What?" the strange young girl replied. "Midgard? Strange. I've never heard of that place. Is that where you're from?"

"No," Glinda shook her head. "I'm from Oz."

"I've never heard of that place either," the young girl stated. "Perhaps you are lost?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Glinda softly chuckled. "Uh, where _am_ I?"

"It is the twelfth year of the Blue Falcon," she replied. "This country, I believe, is known as Avignon."

"My name is Glinda." the blond stated.

"Unimportant," the little girl replied. She then turned to her and held out her hand.

"What?"

"Come along, now. We have much to do."

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**(AN: Several things brought up, and I think you can guess who this character Glinda has met is [I'll give you a hint: she is no longer a vampire, but it is not 'official' that she is who she is now. Too hard? Here's another: her name is that of an instrument of the string family].)**

**(In case you were wondering [as I'm sure some of you are], I am visualizing Glinda as Megan Hilty, as she has always been in the _Ozian Adventures_ series. As for her outfit, it is a simple dress worn by Norse peasant women, and she has her hair slightly braided [she spent quite a bit of time in Midgard, a la _The Witch's Saga_ and _The Warrior and the Witch_, which is why she believes that this world, Earth, is Midgard].)  
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	3. A Smell of Sulfur

**(AN: You know those parts of a story that you just don't like, but you know you have to write them because it's part of the story? Well, I've hit that early with this chapter. However, I decided to have switching view-points, rather than just one, as we've seen in the previous _Ozian Adventures_ stories.)  
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**A Smell of Sulfur**

In the midst of a burning town, a little girl stood shivering and shaking. In her left hand was an old shield, emblazoned in golden bronze with the emblem of an elk. In her right hand was the Last Sword, covered in the blood of innocents. It had happened again: they came after her, she tried to defend herself, and people died.

"It's not my fault!" she whined. "It's not!"

But there was no one left: she had killed them all. _But_ they_ came after me, right?_ she told herself. It had always been that way with a child called "The Bringer of Woe." Everywhere she went, people died when they got close to her: she was the easiest target to blame, and so she was blamed for it. After all, no one else was around when these people died.

So Pyrrha Alexandra ran from place to place, like a frightened wild animal, lashing out in what she called "self-defense." But it had happened again: now the raven-woman would return, she would tell them that she needed no one but her, then they would leave, on to the next town.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of red smoke, and a glare of fire within the smoke. As the smoke cleared, Pyrrha cried out, taking two steps backward, away from what she saw within the smoke. It was a witch, right out of a fairy tale, in the living, waking world. She was clad all in black, with hair unbound, and her skin was the most unnatural: livid green.

"You again!" the witch cried out. Pyrrha was so frightened, she dropped her weapons with a strangulated whimper.

"I...I'm sorry," Pyrrha said, breaking down into tears. "I didn't mean to! They were...I mean, they..."

"Stop whining!" the green-skinned woman barked. "Couldn't stand it before and I can't stand it now."

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Dorothy!" the green-skinned witch roared, pointing one long finger at her. "I know it's you: whining, crying, always saying it wasn't your fault." She then waved her arms about at the burning village about them. "And you kill whatever you touch!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Pyrrha whined.

"Shut up!" Without warning, the green witch slapped Pyrrha across the face. It wasn't particularly hard or forceful, but Pyrrha collapsed to the ground as if she had been struck down by someone at least twice as powerful as the witch.

"Get up, you!"

"I can't! I'm weak!"

"Oh, are you?" Suddenly, the green-skinned witch grabbed Pyrrha by her long, blond hair and started dragging her out of the village. Pyrrha whined, begged, cried and sobbed, but it only made the witch angrier.

* * *

From within the shadows of the flames, one person watched the whole proceedings. To her, it had all been a game: setting fire to the church and other buildings in the village, then planting the evidence to make it seem as though Pyrrha were responsible. Then, when they were closing in, she unleashed "the Bringer of Woe" upon the hapless villagers. It was so fun, controlling this stupid little girl to kill people.

_If her mother could see what her precious little baby has become_, she thought as she watched the village burn. _She would be so heart-broken...it would be so fun to watch her weep!_

Of course, the whining came with it. Seventeen years of listening to Pyrrha whine about everything, apologize for everything, always set her gloomy side surfacing faster than anything else. But it was worth it: all part of her plan, one which she had been orchestrating for the past seventeen years. It was almost time now, and she...

Someone was interfering. She certainly looked as though she had been sleeping next to a shard of Soul Edge, what with that unnatural green skin: hadn't seen someone like that since the golem. And she was going after Pyrrha, calling her "Dodo" or something she couldn't quite make out. Then she grabbed her by the hair - she secretly giggled as she heard the little girl crying out in pain as her hairs were being pulled by strong hands - and dragged her away from the village.

**We're this close to victory**, her gloomy side thought. **Nothing's going to get in our way!**

_But she looks so strong!_ the jolly side commented. _She might even have other powers, like _her_._

**She's just like the others**, the darker thoughts argued. **She stole Pyrrha from us: she'll die just like they did.**

_Please, can we kill her? It'll be so much_ _fun!_

**Yes, it will. But not yet: let's see where she takes us.  
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* * *

**(AN: Short, but I couldn't think of much more to reveal in this chapter without giving too much away.)**

**(Well, you can guess who the one who is watching what happened is: [who else in _Soul Calibur_ has a "jolly" and "gloomy" side?]. The title of this chapter came from something Glinda said in _The Wizard of Oz_ after Elphaba [the Wicked Witch of the West] departed Center Munch, which is appropriate, considering how Elphaba appeared in this chapter. Yes, it was her. Something bad is happening with our Ozian [just go back to _Ozian Adventures: The Land_ and you'll see what I mean].)  
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**(As for taking Pyrrha to be Dorothy, here's something most people might not know. In the pictures of the subsequent Oz-series books, the ones after _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, Dorothy was actually depicted with blond hair. However, the most famous depictions are of her with auburn [Judy Garland] or dark brown hair [Lea Michelle/Paulie Rojas]. Besides, Pyrrha whines a lot [no joke, just listen to her quotes in _Soul Calibur V_], so maybe it would have been easy to mistake her for Dorothy.)  
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	4. The Second Oracle

**(AN: Viola is a sorceress of sorts, but the one I had intended to have Glinda collaborate with has not yet appeared. I'm thinking this is how I shall do it, though Viola will have something of an important role in this story [she was supposed to have an important role in _SCV_ but didn't].)  
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**(Hopefully this chapter will garner more interest than the last one did.)  
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**The Second Oracle**

Glinda and Viola spoke little as they left where Glinda found herself. They entered a town, where Viola led Glinda by the hand to a seedy part of the town. She then led her to a secluded shop, covered with richly-embroidered draperies and filled with the smoke of opium. Glinda coughed as she entered the smoky home of the young sorceress.

"So," Glinda asked. "What exactly are you? Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

"Does it matter?" Viola asked coldly.

"Well, I think it does," Glinda replied. "I mean, if I'm in the company of a good witch, I have nothing to fear, right?"

"If I were a bad witch," Viola stated. "I wouldn't give a damn what you thought about me: you'd be dead by now."

"I see your point," Glinda said, then looked about at the finely-decorated den into which they had entered. "So, what is this place?"

"This is my stand," Viola replied. "People pay me to tell them what will happen."

"You're a fortune teller?" Glinda asked.

"The future is much more complicated than that," Viola replied condescendingly. "It's not a book which can be read at will, whose words never change. It is like looking at the surface of a lake after a stone is tossed into its surface. The surface is never the same after each ripple moves out from the center: so the future changes with each action taken by us and those around us."

"Um, could you use this?" Glinda inquired, holding up the crystal she had received from the oracle of herself.

"I have a gazing crystal of my own," Viola coldly stated. "Furthermore, it's not the quality of the crystal, but the eye of the seer."

"Yeah, that's not entirely true," Glinda said.

Viola looked at Glinda with one eye-brow raised up. "I'm the keeper of the Quattuor Orbis, if anyone knows the secrets of divination, it would be me."

"Well, I looked into this one Stone by accident," Glinda began.

"I don't wanna hear about it," Viola replied. She pointed to a spot beneath her covered stand, where several pillows were arranged. Glinda assumed that she meant for her to sit there, and so she did.

"Ooh, this is comfy," she said happily. It had been a long time since she had known real comfort, at least par the high fashion of the Upper Uplands of Gilikin.

"I've found," Viola continued, not to anyone in particular. "That my clients are much more open to suggestion when they're comfortably seated." She took her seat across from Glinda, knees folded together, and closed her eyes. "Give me your hand."

"Hand?" Glinda hesitantly reached out and placed her hand in Viola's hand. For a moment they sat in silence, with Glinda eying her surroundings awkwardly. Then a brilliant, violet light appeared between them, growing into an orb the size of a melon, that continued to float just at the level of their eyes.

"I can feel your thoughts," Viola said. "Your thoughts are in turmoil, they constantly turn to your friends."

"Can you show me where Elphie might..." But Viola shushed Glinda, and there was silence once more between them. Suddenly, a flash of green appeared in the depths of the orb, then vanished once again, filled with the haze of violet light.

"I see a woman with white hair," Viola stated in a dreamy voice, as though in a trance. "She knows something, something that will help you find your friend."

"Uh, _you_ have white hair," Glinda stated.

"Dammit!" Viola sighed. "The vision's gone." Her eyes opened, and the sphere came to orbit somewhere around her head.

"I have a feeling you're not telling me something," Glinda said.

"Look," Viola stated. "All I know is that I know this guy, he works for this German organization, they hunt evil things."

"What does he know about my friend?"

"Your friend?" Viola asked. "And which friend might that be?"

"Elphi...I mean, Elphaba. She has green skin, dresses in black. I was wondering if you could show me where she's at in that crystal-orb thingy of yours."

Viola paused for a moment, looked up at the orb floating above her head, then turned back to Glinda.

"Your thoughts led me to her," Viola said. "But the crystal was empty: all I could see was a flash of green in a sea of darkness. Most curious."

"Why?"

"Whoever your friend is, she is quite powerful," Viola stated. "She is blocking my sight, all I can see is her essence: her soul."

Glinda took a moment to decipher Viola's words. Among the many things she had talked about with Elphaba, the concept of immortality or a soul never came to be. Glinda never gave it any thought, not as Galinda, and during their travels, she was only thought of one thing: how to get home. Now she was on a task she chose for herself, to find Elphaba: she could not go home until Elphaba was safe and sound. But it also meant she would have a lot of time alone with herself, no one with whom to talk. She suddenly realized that, perhaps as a side-effect of being around Elphaba, she, Glinda, was thinking more and more profoundly than she ever believed possible coming from herself.

"Are you _sure_ you're not the one?" she asked. "I mean, you _do_ have white hair."

"Excuse me," Viola said. "Perhaps I _have_ met you before. I remember little else prior to a few months ago."

"I don't think we've met before," Glinda said. It became very silly, in Glinda's mind, to be giving credence to a fortune-teller who couldn't even remember who she was or whom she had met.

"I will have to consult the crystal," Viola said. "Perhaps I will be able to learn more. In the meantime, you should probably stay with me until I uncover this mystery."

Glinda sighed, realizing that she didn't have much choice in the matter. She had no idea where she was, or how she could find Elphaba. Back in Maaptia, she knew the others were missing her as well: every day she was away, here in this world, she was away from them. As far as she could tell, there was nothing more she could do, but wait for a possible answer from this Viola woman.

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**(AN:)**


	5. Valentine

**(AN: I really hated how the story of _SCV_ turned out. So, though I'm keeping the basic skeleton, it's going to change in this story. You will obviously see that, as well as some other explanations for what happened in _SCV_. I don't have them all memorized, just the most egregious [imo], so if you know the rest, or have any suggestions about what you would like to see addressed, please feel free to suggest them in the reviews.)  
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**Valentine**

Over the next several days, both Glinda and Viola were staring at their respective scrying crystals, all coming up with nothing more than a flash of bright green. Regardless, they continued trying, Viola convinced that the one Glinda sought would show herself within her globe. Despite the description being almost identical to herself, she denied that she was the chosen one: according to herself, she would have received a vision, a dream, or some suggestion to help Glinda. As it was, she was doing it mostly out of condescending pity (she said as much herself).

"You don't look like you would last long in the real world," she had said.

So on they waited. All the while, Glinda examined her staff once again, seeing if there was anything uniquely special about it. So far, nothing apart from the virtue of the _mallorn_ shaft was to be found, except, perhaps the metal cap on the end. Every so often, when Viola was sleeping or gazing into her crystal and Glinda was half-asleep, she thought she saw tiny lines of white fire appear across the metal cap, which faded the moment she examined it.

She didn't sleep much. Her dreams were filled with nightmares. Sometimes she was running down a narrow stair-case made of stone that broke beneath her feet, then a huge shadow appeared out of the darkness. Then faces learned out of the shadow, hideous faces of men with no good in their hearts. In between these dreams, of course, Elphaba's face weaved in and out, never still long enough for her to touch it or call out to her. The dark halls of Kiamo Ko came back to mind, including that fateful afternoon when she believed Elphaba had died. Hideous voices were calling out to her, then she saw that blackened figure with a pale-green face, standing over a blighted land: it was something both she had Elphaba had seen. Then she saw Elphaba again: she was lying in her arms, unable to move.

"Elphie, no!" she screamed, jumping up out of her sleep. It was just a dream. Elphaba wasn't there, she wasn't dead: at least, as far as she knew. She could be dying somewhere, and she was just sitting here, doing nothing.

* * *

One day, while Viola was busy with a customer, Glinda was going over the spells she had memorized from her time with the Grimmerie. They weren't very many, and since she had almost no magical talent, they had been hard to execute. But there had been a success, one that resulted in her dividing into four. Now if only she could duplicate that success, and use it to find Elphaba. Perhaps, then, she could rest easily, knowing that her time here was not being spent in vain.

"Okay, here's one," she said. "Um..." It was dangerous, because she had seen it happen and the results could be disastrous. _What in Oz's name am I thinking?_ She looked about the stand, hoping to find something that might be useful in case this spell actually worked. Down at her feet was a Persian rug, or so Viola had called it. It seemed quite silly, flying about on a rug when one could just as well come and go by bubble. But she wasn't picky: the bubble required special machinery that she had left behind in Oz about a year ago. With hands stretched over the rug, she thought long and hard, recalling the events of that fateful day in the attic of the Emerald Palace, then repeated the words.

"_Ahben Tahkay Ah Tum Entay Ditum Entayah_." She closed her eyes, feeling that it might be a little more helpful in the casting of the spell, then repeated: "_Ahben Tahkay Ah Tum Entay Ditum Entayah_."

One eye creaked open and saw the rug lying flat on the floor. She opened both eyes, then saw that nothing so much had changed. Viola was still chatting away with her customer, nothing was flying about on wings or hovering of its own volition. Her attempt at the spell had crashed and burned all in one try.

_It's okay, Glinda_, she thought to herself. _No need to panic. Let's just try something smaller_.

She turned her thoughts inward again, remembering a moment long ago when Elphaba had mastered a quick-casting spell that she used in battle quite easily.

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

She had pushed her way out of the caves. She didn't want to be trapped with the women and children: she had been doing nothing but hiding and being carried about like baggage, she wanted to do some good, even if it were of little importance. The last she heard, Elphaba was in the highest tower of the keep. Hopefully, the preparations for battle would allow the soldiers to overlook one woman making her way up the stairs to the keep.

There hadn't been much protest, and when she came to the keep, she found the stairs that led her to the highest chamber, just below the great horn. As she pushed the door aside, she saw Elphaba leaning over the Grimmerie, hands waving about and her face twisted in concentration.

"_Incendo!_" she shouted. A flash of fire suddenly shot from Elphaba's hand and struck the stone wall of the chamber. It dissipated harmlessly into a few, flaming embers that died down quickly, having nothing more to consume.

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

She remembered with amusement how the very sight of it had caused her to run in fright back down into the caves. Elphaba seemed to have no problem taking care of herself, and that bolt of fire reminded her of what the others, namely Fiyero and Boq, had said about their times with what's-her-name. But it seemed like a little spell, Elphaba had seemingly mastered how to use it without even speaking the incantation. How hard could it be? She pointed her hands at a lamp that hung from the canopy that covered Viola's shop, then exclaimed:

"_Incendo!_" Not so much as a spark ignited from the lamp. She realized sadly that she had no real power, or else something was preventing her powers from working properly. Then again, her powers weren't exactly the best. Maybe there was still some hope in the matter.

Just as she was considering this, she felt something cold press against the side of her neck. The edge felt sharp, almost like the edge of a sword. She wanted to turn about to see who it was who had approached, but she feared that, because of how close the sword was, it might hurt her if she tried to see who was there.

"Don't make a sound," a cold, sneering voice commanded. It was a woman's voice, deep and throaty: in her mind, it reminded her horridly of the Lady of the Golden Wood, just darker and sinister.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"Here's not the place for introductions, child," the deep-voiced woman said behind her. "Stand up." Glinda rose to her feet. "That's good. Now, go where I tell you to go."

"You're kidnapping me?"

"I just want a little chat," the voice was still haughty, but sounded less sneering: it was almost playful in its tone.

"What if I don't wanna be kidnapped? Huh, what if I do something..."

"Like what, scream for help?" she laughed. "You're completely under my power, now start walking and things will go much easier."

Glinda didn't have much of a choice, so she started walking out of Viola's canopy-covered stand. Strangely enough, there were no glances or looks given her way as she walked down the narrow street to a large building. The stranger behind Glinda ordered her to open the door, but it was tightly locked and she couldn't. A clicking sound was heard near the door and the stranger told her to try again. This time, the door gave way. They found themselves inside a cellar of a winery, among large barrels and the scent of fermenting wine.

The sharp point fell from Glinda's shoulder, and she turned around to see who had abducted her. Her kidnapper was hooded and cloaked, and their face was not visible yet: however, judging by what she could see, her captor was quite tall, perhaps even taller than Elphaba.

"Alright, you have me, what do you want?" Glinda asked, careful to choose her words. She didn't know who this person was, or what she might do to her.

"Me?" the figure laughed. "I think the question should be, what do _you_ want?" The figure removed the hood, and Glinda saw a woman with short-cut white hair. Her skin was pale, and her lips were curled in a mischievous smile.

"You!" Glinda said. "You're the one in the vision?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're babbling about," the white-haired woman said. "But my sword led me to you. Despite your helpless demeanor and general uselessness, you might prove useful. Now tell me, what do you want?"

"First, I want to know your name."

"Call me Ivy."

"Glinda," she returned. "First of all, if you're here to help me, why did you kidnap me?"

"Don't take it personally," Ivy purred. "It's just how I am."

"You sneak up on people and threaten to hurt them just to get their attention?"

"Something like that."

"Right. So, the next thing I want..." She sighed, not knowing if she should trust this person. She had seen a white-haired sorceress in Viola's scrying crystal, but didn't know if it was this one. What if this was a trap, and Viola was the one she sought all along? Then again, she realized, that there wasn't much of an option. She was at the mercy of this person, for good or ill.

"I need...to find someone." she said at last.

"Everyone seems to be out to find someone," Ivy replied.

"This is very important!" she exclaimed.

"Really?" Ivy retorted. "Then perhaps you should tell me why finding this person is so important."

* * *

**(AN: I just got hit with a storm of things in rl that make attending to these stories quite a chore, aside from lack of inspiration. So once again, I apologize for the long wait with chapters.)**

**(I've got to have _that_ character make an appearance [not referring to Ivy], but that won't happen yet. Right now, I need a stronger plot, one that is centric around Glinda, Ivy, Viola, Elphaba and [to a very small degree] Pyrrha. So far, I've just been writing stories as they come, with little story concept thought up before I sit down to write. Maybe that is part of my issue. Oh well, hope you liked what I have here. I'll try to get a new chapter posted soon.)  
**

**(PS - as much as I like hearing "good job" and such, a few more objective reviews would be helpful. Story ideas, also, are welcomed: I remind you for the hundredth time, give ideas and they might appear in the story.)  
**


	6. A Witch to Catch a Witch

**(AN: Suddenly had a burst of inspiration, and I have to get it out!)  
**

**(Perspective is somewhat shifted, but only slightly.)  
**

* * *

**A Witch to Catch a Witch**

Isabella Valentine had no idea what she got herself into when she asked Glinda Upland to tell her why finding her 'friend' was so important. From the wine cellar in Marseilles all the way to the stables of the inn where her carriage was kept, to the country house she was staying in outside of the town proper, the little blond girl talked her ears off with things that she barely could believe.

Witches, other worlds, hideous goblin-like creatures, rainbows, golden treasures, monsters - practically a life's story told in the space of just a few hours - and a green-skinned woman. That, apparently, was the one for whom the little blond was searching. She had absolutely no idea, but it was rather intriguing, and there was something too earnest about this young woman that made her feel that she was being truthful.

At last, they exited the carriage and made their way into the mansion. Glinda walked without being prodded by a sword; perhaps the conversation was so engaging that she had forgotten about the danger so close at hand.

"And, if I may, just for a moment," Glinda said, interrupting her story. "Say a word or two?"

"Mm-hmm," Ivy replied.

"You have...um, well..." She exclaimed. Ivy turned about and saw, of course, Glinda's eyes staring down at her chest.

"Yes, I do," she returned. "Your point is?"

"Uh...doesn't it hurt?" she asked. "I mean, I..." She looked down at her own endowments; hardly as large as Ivy's, but impressive nonetheless.

"They can be quite uncomfortable at times," Ivy returned. "It sure makes running hell."

"Yeah, I've always had that problem."

"Well, now we're here," Ivy said. "And I'm surprised at your behavior."

"What do you mean?"

"I had you at my mercy just a few hours ago," Ivy stated. "Now you're opening up to me as if I was your friend."

"Well, what choice did you give me? You practically put a sword at my throat."

"Would you like me to do so again?" Ivy taunted, her hand reaching into the folds of her dress, wrapping around the hilt of her sword.

"No no, I take it back!" Glinda said. "I mean, you told me to talk, and I talked."

"But why trust me? Especially after how I found you?"

"Well, like I said, what choice did I have? Also, I need at least some help, and V...the soothsayer-girl, the one who's shop you found me at, told me to look for a woman with white hair. She said it wasn't her and, well, you have white hair."

"And what if I'm an imposter?" Ivy asked after a long, uneasy pause passed between the two women. "What if you've just revealed yourself and the nature of your mission to an enemy? What will you do then?"

"I, uh, well, I..." Glinda stammered, just realizing that Ivy had made a very important point; one against which she could not retort.

"Exactly as I assumed," Ivy stated with a tiny smirk. "Come with me, I have something for you."

Glinda was nothing but suspicious, especially after what Ivy had said about if she was an imposter. She suddenly realized that she had absolutely no way of escaping, especially if it turned out that Ivy was an imposter, and a threat as well. All she had was that little scrying crystal she got from her other self, and the old man's gift to Elphaba tucked safely within her dress: neither of which seemed to be a decent weapon, should push come to shove.

"Give it to me." she suddenly said.

Now Glinda was really fearful. She knew that she, Glinda, had something on her person, and now she wanted it. But dare she try to put up a fight, even though it looked as though there was no hope in fighting?

"Uh, give what, exactly?"

"Look," Ivy turned about. "I'm not the kind of person who entertains guests, as you can see." Truly enough, despite the regality of the mansion, it was old and covered with cobwebs, heavy with disuse. "There's a reason you're here, in the Valentine mansion."

"And what is that?"

"Like yourself," Ivy began. "I also had a vision: in it, I saw you, you were carrying something and...and I was led to believe that I should seek you out."

"Me? But whatever for? I'm a stranger to you and your world."

"Let me see what you have." Ivy dismissed, holding out her hand. Glinda didn't exaclty feel as though this woman was all-together trust-worthy, but she had little other choice, and so surrendered into Ivy's hand first the scrying globe.

"A seeing glass," Ivy said, examining the crystal. "Though, I must say, it is of the strangest crystal: like nothing I've ever seen before." She placed it in her other hand, then extended her right out to receive the staff, collapsed and no longer than Glinda's fore-arm.

"I sense great power with this staff," Ivy stated, looking it over strangely. "Very old power, and yet..." She looked at the top, with its silver cap.

_Ahben Tahkay Ah Tum Entay Ditum Entayah, _Ivy chanted slowly. To Glinda's surprise, the staff, shortened for the convenience of carrying in secret, had disappeared. In Ivy's hand, instead, was something so familiar and yet missed for so long that it seemed alien to Glinda's eyes. And yet there it was, in broad daylight, just as she had remembered it from all those years ago.

Elphaba's broom.

"Oh, sweet Oz!" Glinda exclaimed, her hands covering her mouth, hanging agape in awe. Ivy then spoke to it the phrase "_Redeo_ _et abscondita_" and it returned once again into the form it had once possessed. Suddenly, her awe was overwhelmed with a flood of questions.

"Wait, how do you know that?"

"What?"

"That-that..._that!_" she exclaimed. "The...the hideous levitation spell! I've been looking at that broom for weeks and haven't seen anything! How could you..."

"It's Latin, silly girl," Ivy stated. "Any cleric could read what's written on the cap of this broom."

_Did Elphie know_, she wondered. _I doubt it, she never unlocked the secret, at least, not openly_. _But how did the old man ever find the Broom, and why could it heal wounds, as though..._

"Wait, you said it had power in it." Glinda inquired. "Exactly what kind of power?"

"No great power," Ivy stated. "Just the spell, written upon the silver cap: if said, it will make staff reveal its true power. There is something else, however..." She placed the scrying crystal down and began examining the short staff intently, looking not at the cap, but at the wood itself.

"What else?" Glinda wondered aloud. _Does she know about its healing powers?_

"This is good," Ivy said with a smile. "It will go well with the gift I was intending to bestow upon you."

"Gift?" Glinda asked.

"Exactly," Ivy replied. "Come along, now, to my laboratory."

* * *

Ivy's "laboratory" was an old wine cellar in the basement of the mansion. It was the only part of the house that looked like it had been regularly used. It reminded her slightly of a combination of both Oppman's garage and the Wizard's throne room, when it was not housing guests: namely, messy. There were shelves filled with books, several glass containers bubbling with Oz knows what, strange images scribbled across the walls and floors in what, Glinda hoped, was not blood.

"This is my laboratory," Ivy said. "Have a seat."

Glinda looked about and saw a simple stool sitting at one of the alchemist tables, upon which she sat herself.

"Here," she said, removing a piece of what looked like a sword blade from one of her tables. This she seemed to meld into the silver cap of the staff-broom, then handed it back to Glinda.

"What did you do to it?" she asked.

"I have given you a means of defending yourself," Ivy stated. "When you want to use it, simply say _Extendo_." At this, a foot-and-a-half long blade extended from the end of the short staff. "When you wish to conceal it, say _Redeo_." The blade vanished, and once again, nothing was left but a half-foot short staff. Glinda was surprised that it could conceal such: was it more magic?

"So you're a witch, then?" Glinda asked. "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

"Does it matter?" Ivy asked.

"Well, kind of."

"I guess you'll just have to see for yourself, then, won't you?" Ivy asked. "So, this friend of yours, you've been unable to discover her location through your crystal?"

"Nothing," Glinda shook her head. "Just a flash of green, nothing else."

"Is _she_ a witch?"

"I thought we already went over this," Glinda repeated. "Yes, she _is_ a witch, but a good one." _At least, she _was_ a __good one_.

"Perhaps she doesn't _want_ to be found," Ivy suggested. "She might be using her powers to conceal herself."

"But she told me," Glinda suddenly remembered. "That she wasn't very powerful. I didn't believe it, because she was in a very traumatic situation. She was always so moodified and sorrowful all the time."

"'Moodified?'" Ivy asked with a chuckle.

"Yes, it means 'depressed' or 'sad.' Sweet Oz, haven't you ever heard of High Ozian?"

"It seems not," Ivy replied. "It matters not, we should get to work trying to find your friend."

"But I don't know where she's at, she could be anywhere!"

Suddenly, there was a clanging sound further in the house. Glinda looked here and there, then saw a pair of boots ascending the stairs. Quickly picking up the staff, she ran up the stairs to find Ivy and the intruder.

* * *

**(AN: That sure didn't last long [the inspiration and, to a degree, this chapter].)**

**(Once again, I'm open to ideas and suggestions, as well as your reviews. Don't be review-shy, fill something out, please! [lol])  
**


	7. Unholy

**(AN: New chapter! [like anyone cares anymore]. Sorry, but I was hit with the worst case of writer's block, hopefully I've gotten over it for now.)  
**

**(In this chapter, we see the [usual] appearance of you-know-who [not Voldemort or Elphaba]. If you've read any of my other _Soul Calibur_ fan-fics, you'll know that I have him at least cameo in every story.)  
**

* * *

**Unholy**

At the top of the stairs, Glinda was both surprised and a little embarrassed to find Ivy standing there, sword drawn and dress lying on the floor, quite forgotten. Beneath her dress, Glinda saw that Ivy wore nothing but a tight leather bodice, if such could be said about it. It was very tight and sparse, more like strips of underwear than proper clothing. The opponent was a sturdy warrior, whose features put her beyond Glinda's guessing. He was rather old, as told by the gray in his hair and beard, but the way he stood, with determination, and the strong grip he held on his sword made her assured that, old though he might be, he was certainly quite a challenge.

"Intruder!" Ivy shouted at the stranger. "Tell me now why I shouldn't gut you where you stand."

"Bold words coming from someone so ill-prepared," the intruder shot back, his accent strange to Glinda's ears, his voice deep and powerful. "Swords are not toys, woman. This is real battle."

"You think me ill-prepared?" Ivy teased, with a taunting laugh hanging upon her lips. What happened next was nothing short of amazing. With a word to her sword, she commanded it and it broke apart into a dozen floating blades of sharpened steel, which came soaring at the intruder. With his sword in hand, he swatted them away as though they were flies. Glinda saw Ivy take a step back, apparently unprepared for this move.

"You thought you could defeat me with that thing?" the stranger retorted. Suddenly, a grating sound jarred Glinda so much that she had to cover her ears. It sounded like a heavy chain being dragged across the ground, making enough noise to wake the dead. From where it had been shot down, the shards of Ivy's sword materialized back onto their bare hilt, as the stranger slowly approached, preparing for battle.

She, Glinda, was not ready for a battle, and this stranger certainly meant business. In her mind, she began to formulate a plan. She had been more or less 'abducted' by this Ivy, and she thought Viola had more to tell her than she had initially let on. Now was her chance to make a break for it, attempt to leave the mansion and find Viola again. With the staff in her hand, she ran back down to the basement and retrieved her scrying crystal: not for any real reason that came to mind, it wasn't useful in finding Elphaba. Probably just because _she_ had given it to herself, and so thought it important. As she climbed up the stairs, she saw the hall in turmoil as the two fought a fierce battle.

Ivy was obviously skilled with a sword and could wield it well despite her use of magic. Unfortunately, her 'endowments' and high heeled shoes made toe-to-toe combat with the strange man difficult at best. The stranger was old, and probably not as quick as Ivy. But he was also fit and, judging by how Ivy recoiled from his blows, extremely powerful. Both were neck and neck with each other, with neither dominating the battle.

_Just as I need it to be_, Glinda thought, as she ran for the door. Now or never, she made her escape. She heard something about a "hero king" shouted from the stranger, but it meant nothing to her. She had her purpose before her: escaping and getting to Viola as quickly as possible. Every moment she waited, Elphaba would be harder and harder to find, especially the hard way: namely, without magic.

* * *

If she had though leaving the mansion would have been easy, she became quickly and painfully aware that this was not the case. She got past the fighters easily enough, made her way out of the mansion without incident, but then found herself walking the rest of the way. She didn't know where they kept their horses, or the carriage, and she didn't have a clue as to where she was, where Viola was, where that was in relation to where she was now, and how she might get there from here.

The road from Ivy's mansion led through a forest, and it was through this that she walked, fearful of the tall, dark trees and still not knowing where she was or where she needed to go. While she was thus encumbered, she heard the sound of a horse upon the road. Gripping her staff in her hand, she braced herself to meet whoever it was who was coming toward her.

It was a young man on a horse. He was wearing a black jacket and pants, lined with blue. A sword sat in a deep blue sheath upon his belt. As he saw the strange woman on the road, he checked his horse, dismounted, then drew out his sword, pointing its blade at Glinda.

"Who are you?" he shouted over-emphatically. "Are you malfested?"

"I, what?" Glinda returned, clueless.

"You're pale," he replied. "That means you're malfested."

"I don't even know what that means," Glinda asked. "How can I be something I don't even know what it means?"

"That's just what a malfested would say!" the young man shouted angrily.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Glinda begged, waving her hands in an expression of pleading.

"Die, malfested!" the young man shouted: not like he actually meant it, but like he was a little boy, playing soldier. Yet there was no playing about that sword in his hand, which he was thrusting at her.

She ran from the warrior, forgetting the spell Ivy had told her about revealing the sword hidden within the staff. This young man, who couldn't have been any older than she was when she first arrived at Shiz, was running after her as though he meant to kill her.

"Malfested are evil!" he shouted. "I, Patroklos Alexander, the Holy Warrior, shall destroy you with Soul Calibur!" He held up the sword in his hand, shining blue in the mid-day sun.

"Holy Warrior my ass!" Glinda shouted. "You're attacking a woman, you big bully!"

"Shut up!" he shouted over-emphatically again. "I won't listen to your lies, malfested b*tch!"

Oh, how she wished she could slap him across that rosy, hair-less face, as she had struck Elphaba that afternoon at Center Munch. But she couldn't for the life of her remember the spell to arm herself. And this angry, silly little boy was armed and coming after her. She had to run.

"What, running away, you malfested coward?!" he taunted. "You're nothing but a coward, aren't you, you malfested bully! You're a pussy!"

"Leave me alone!" Glinda cried, starting to get annoyed at his presence.

"You're a pussy!" he shouted. "A wicked, manipulative, murdering, malfested pussy!"

"And you are a big baby!" she shouted. "Go home to your mother, why don't you!"

At this, the arrogant young warrior halted, seemingly sorrowful.

"My mother is dead," he sobbed. Then his tears turned immediately to anger, and he aimed his sword at Glinda again. "She was killed by one of _your_ kind, you malfested scum!"

This would have actually been silly if it wasn't so serious, Glinda mused. The way he lunched and attacked was over-pronounced, like an actor over-performing a caricature of a hero for some satirical play, or like a child who was playing with a real sword. She stumbled away, hoping that this silly little boy would finally grow tired.

"You scared of me?" he challenged, as though he hadn't just made a fool of himself with all of his red-faced swinging and hacking. "Malfested verim! Go ahead and run! At least you know how weak you are! And tell the rest of your malfested that the Holy Warrior is coming to destroy them all!"

Glinda hid behind a tree, and saw Patroklos shouting out, strutting as though he had just defeated her. There was the sound of movement in the forest, and he assumed an exaggerated ready stance: legs spread apart, head down and sword leveled at where the noise sounded. From where she hid, she saw the cutest little rabbit stepping out of the forest. She hadn't seen many rabbits in her time, but she knew what they looked like, and heard that there were places in the drier spots of Quadling where rabbits were allowed to live in peace and sanctuary. This rabbit in particular was so cute, all white with a cute, twitching pink nose.

"Malfested!" Patroklos cried out, running the rabbit through with his sword.

* * *

**(AN: I suddenly get inspiration again! A plot is forming, I've gotten out of the woods [so to speak, lol]. Now all I need is the time to write this story down.)**

**(Mitsurugi makes his cameo in this story, fighting Ivy for information about the Hero King. Also, as I predicted in _Sophitia_, here is the instance where Ivy's snake-sword is of little use. Obviously Mitsurugi is a one-man army, and he couldn't be defeated by that: it would destroy his character. I might need to make him appear again, especially concerning the other character who made an appearance in this story.)  
**

**(Patroklos...what else can I say? When I played the Patroklos-centric story of _SCV_, he really was saying "malfested" every other second. And Alpha Patroklos, the one shown here, really does have a quote where it sounds like he says "You're a pussy!" It seems like I'm the only one who doesn't like him. Yes, the Patroklos-fans will say "But Siegfried was just as bad." Well, as bad as Siegfried was, Patroklos is worse. I might have exaggerated how silly he is, but I really think he's like that...and one FF author [who's name I forgot] agreed with me, and said further that: "****One thing you should never do is shove a character into the player's face, show that character do horrible things from the moment that he's introduced to us and expect us to accept that he's the hero of the story!**")  


**(Don't worry, I won't show much more of him in this story.)  
**


	8. Neu Schwarzwind

**(AN: I just suddenly had a premonition of how I could bring this story to the end I had in mind. What you are about to see in the next several chapters are my attempts to make sense of a senseless, pointless and confusing story-line of _SCV_. As such, and since we've already cut-away to Elphaba, there will be two, nonlinear stories, though I'm not going to tell _all_ from each story. Need to have some mystery. Hope you've stayed here, because it's about to start getting good!)  
**

* * *

**Neu Schwarzwind**

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, until she felt as though her heart would fall out of her chest from sheer exhaustion. When she was certain that little blond boy wasn't chasing her anymore, she finally fell to the earth. Her breath was hot within her mouth, her knees aching from where she had fallen; she felt as though she were falling apart at the seems.

While she was trying to push herself back up onto her feet, her hand enclosed around something cold and hard. Curiosity got the best of her and she closed her hands around it, then lifted it up to her face, to see what it was. Her sight was greeted by her duplicate's scrying crystal. Something was different, though: there was a face looking up at her from the depths of the crystal.

It had white hair.

"Glinda?" Viola asked.

"Viola?" she returned.

"Who else could it be?" the white-haired girl asked monotonously. "Listen, I must find you again. There's been...an incident, you must speak with my superiors."

"But where are they?" Glinda asked.

"Just head east from where you are," Viola said. "We will find you."

Having said this, the orb dimmed. Glinda sighed, and resigned herself once more to traveling by herself.

* * *

Glinda suddenly realized how blessed she had been to be traveling in company in the week that followed. Traveling along was hell: all she had was the open sky as her company, and for the better part of her journey, it was cold and overcast with clouds. Her clothes were well-built, but they were dirty and quite uncomfortable, still laden with sand from the deserts of Maaptia. Furthermore, she had no one to her company and the nights were lonely and cold. She spent them gazing into her scrying crystal, hoping, wishing, pleading, willing for some sign of Elphaba. The only sign she saw was a flash of green within a sea of darkness.

The worst of it all came when Glinda woke one morning feeling uninterested, weak and extremely light-headed. It got worse when she saw a dark stain forming on the rear of her dress: it was the time of her cycle.

"Oh, Shiz." she sighed.

Usually, she had been able to get by with wearing a rag in her panties. However, it hadn't been that time when she left Oz, and all that happened, what with the Fellowship being all men - or males of their respective races - she didn't really want to talk about her lady functions among them; therefore, she got by with sneaking off during the night, and using small pieces of severed cloth from her blanket for the purpose. After they entered Midgard, it was much easier to attend to her natural cycles than when on the road. How she wished that she were like Fiyero, who didn't have to bleed every three or four days a month.

It made her journey all the more difficult: wandering about alone in a world she didn't know, not knowing where she was going, with dark clouds overhead and painful cramps within. She missed Fiyero, baby Liir and Nessa, even those she had just met or re-met - Boq and Kloxolk: but, most of all, she missed Elphaba. This only strengthened her resolve, despite all that had been happening with her: it galvanized her will, awakening within her a kind of strength she did not believe she possessed, a kind of strength she felt only Elphaba, Fiyero, or a strong hero like Sigurd or Gandalf, possessed.

_I'll find Elphaba_, she sobbed to herself, amid the dark clouds. _Even if I run myself into my grave, I will find her._

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

"I'm sorry," the little blond girl whined for the thousandth time. "I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Pyrrha...Pyrrha!"

The green-skinned woman wasn't listening. She had Pyrrha's hands tied together on a rope, which she clenched in her fist, dragging the little girl after her like baggage. She had nothing else with her, just the dress on her back. Not even the Grimmerie was with her: she didn't know where it was. It didn't matter anymore, nothing else did, except one thing.

"Just shut up, Dorothy," she bit back angrily. "Tell me what you were doing in that town."

"I-I don't know," Pyrrha whined. "I was attacked. They wanted to hurt me!"

"From the looks of it," the green-skinned woman roared. "You pretty much killed everyone in your path."

"I'm not a murderer!" Pyrrha sobbed. "I didn't mean to! They came after me!"

"Stop whining," growled Elphaba. "I'm sick of it! Just tell me what you know."

"But I don't know anything!"

In a whirl of green, Elphaba turned around and slapped Pyrrha across the face. She recoiled as though she had been hit with a hammer and collapsed on the ground, whimpering like a whipped dog.

"You know where it's at!" she seethed. "The Sword!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Pyrrha cried. Out of frustration, Elphaba stepped on Pyrrha's ankle, which sent wailing from the little girl's lips.

"I'll get that information," Elphaba spat at her. "If I have to wring them in screams out of your scrawny little throat!"

Suddenly, Elphaba's head swam, as though she was growing light-headed. It was enough for Pyrrha to squirm her way out from Elphaba's boot. She then got to her feet and ran away, screaming for help. After a moment of disorientation, the green-skinned witch looked about, saw the fleeing Pyrrha, and ran after her.

"Get back here, you whining little b*tch!" she shouted, running after her as fast as she could.

A large, black bird flew into Elphaba's face. Angrily, she swatted the bird away. A whistling sound echoed from behind, and suddenly another figure appeared. She looked about Elphaba's age, give or take a few years, and her clothing were even more frayed and torn than Elphaba's black dress had been: in fact, it was practically in tatters. She had pale skin, purple hair streaked with white that was tied into two long braids, and a great metal hoop was hanging on her shoulder.

"Who stole my pet?" she asked, her voice angry and demanding. "Who stole little Pyrrha?"

"What if it _was_ me?" Elphaba asked, just as venomously.

"Just watch your back, freak," the purple-and-white-haired girl said. "She's my posse, and you're interfering."

For one moment, the two women looked each other in the eyes. The little girl's eyes were an unnatural shade of violet, though they were not glowing or shining, they looked like twin amethysts, glimmering in a sea of milk: but the look in her eyes were anything but soft. The green-skinned girl, with her chocolate brown eyes flecked with gray, looked back with equal fury. For a moment, the little girl thought she saw a flash of red in the green-skinned woman's eyes.

"You like it too, don't you?" she asked, her voice suddenly deep, throaty and jolly. "All the killing and torturing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elphaba replied.

"Oh, I bet you don't," she mocked, reverting to her angry, gloomy tone of voice. Her demeanor changed again, her frown turning to a smile. "Maybe you _are_ worthy."

"Worthy of what?" asked the green-skinned girl.

For a moment, the pale, purple-and-white-haired girl seemed at a stand-still. Her gaze seemed to look inward, as though she were asking herself what she should do next, or if she had made the right choice to begin with by saying what she had.

"Worthy to be killed!" she suddenly said with a smile. "It's gonna be so fun, seeing you beg for death." She kicked her hoop off her shoulder, then took it up in her hands, adjusting herself into a battle stance.

"Aw, what's the matter?" she asked again. "Don't have a sword, do you?"

That was true: all she had were her hands, and that wouldn't be enough to get through that hoop of steel, especially if it was sharp, which she was almost certain it was. She ran over to Pyrrha, kicked her in the stomach, knocking her down to the ground. She then picked up a sword and shield that had been on Pyrrha's person and turned to face her.

"Hey, that's mine!" whined Pyrrha.

"Shut up!" both Elphaba and the new-comer said as one.

Without another word, Elphaba and the girl with the ring blade attacked. The sword and shield Elphaba bore were strange to her: for the past year and a half in Middle-Earth, she had born a single sword without need for a shield. The sword she had in her hand had a very short range, and the shield was weighty and unfamiliar, hanging on her left arm. The only good thing, if such could be said about such unfamiliar weapons, was that the sword was light-weight and the shield not very heavy. Whoever had forged this pair of weapons had made them in mind for a female warrior, one unfamiliar with the art of the sword.

This worked well for Elphaba, only insomuch that it kept her from serious damage. Her opponent, however, was highly skilled with her weapon, which she swung and spun about chaotically, though there was some nefarious will behind the seemingly erratic blows. She never seemed to waste her strikes: every one, even ones that went wide, made Elphaba give ground.

"Ha ha!" the girl laughed. "Have you _ever_ wielded a sword before? You fight worse than _she_ does!"

It was a bold-faced taunt, and it worked. Elphaba became increasingly more aggressive, but her swings were wide, and her left arm was growing numb from the repeated blows on her shield, though protected. This was no weapon for her, she knew as soon as she had taken them up in her hands. But now she found herself on the receiving end of a battle that looked like she would not be winning.

"I'm gonna bleed you dry!" the little girl mocked happily, as she swung her blade at Elphaba, savoring an imminent victory. Elphaba kept her shield up, but her vision was cloudy. She became aware of little else other than the swinging ring-blade of her enemy. The world around was hazy and dark. She couldn't concentrate, not on both her enemy and this new threat. She then saw a face, one that awoke something within her that hadn't properly existed since the trickster-god had driven his hand through her body.

_Glinda..._

* * *

Seven days had passed since Glinda ran for her life from the silly young warrior with the sword "Soul Calibur." Her journey had been long and tiresome, plagued with dreams of her time with Elphaba. In one of them, she saw herself once more in Viola's tent, looking into the crystals as they had done during her stay there. She saw the flash of green in the darkness, but it seemed to be wavering against a violet swirl of chaotic colors, some lighter, some darker. That had been so long ago, she had almost forgotten it. Yet it seemed to serve no purpose, and she wondered why her mind was bringing this up to her memory.

_Maybe my mind is bringing things up unbidden_, she thought. _Because..._

She could barely bring herself to breathe life to her fears. Her thoughts, dreams and fears had surfaced unbidden before, and she usually dismissed these as just a guilty conscience. But she wasn't feeling guilty; she was doing all that she could to find Elphaba, she was doing the right thing. So why were these thoughts coming back unbidden?

_...because I'm losing my mind?_

Still onward she walked, knowing not where she was going. Days seemed to run together, like one long, endless stream of gray twilight, with night the darkest of all. Horrible memories of Mordor filled her mind, making sleep worse than day, for she dreaded to dream of the hideous orc-people and their less-than-human allies.

_Why am I even going on anymore?_ she would wonder sometimes in the depths of night. Elphaba was nowhere to be found, and she felt absolutely stupid, running about looking for someone she didn't even know where to start looking for, or if she was still alive. It seemed to bear down upon her little body like the weight of some great mountain, making it hard to breathe.

Just when all hope seemed lost, there appeared a lone rider upon the horizon. But Glinda's strength seemed to have been taxed to its fullest. It took all of her energy just to wave one hand to attempt to call attention to herself. By then, she could feel her head spinning, her world reeling into a sea of dark and numbness. She never even felt when her head hit the ground.

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

Glinda finally awoke, still very light-headed and weak-feeling. It occured to her that she had not eaten in that whole week, or even had a single drop of water. No wonder she felt so weak: and the dark clouds and her hopeless situation around her, it was a wonder she hadn't broken down into tears, or crawled underneath a rock and given up, waiting for death. Waking, however, was something quite astounding. Had she been found, and who had found her? Were they friends or enemies? Had Viola made good on her promise? Before her, she saw faces she did not recognize. One was a young man, reminding her of Fiyero: he had black hair, streaked with gray, and wore a long black jacket, opened revealing no shirt beneath, and black trousers. A woman stood there, who reminded her of Nessarose so much she almost cried out, but kept from doing so: she had never seen Nessa wearing heavy armor like that. The third figure, however, made her heart drop almost instantly. It seemed that Sigurd had come back from Hel and stood before her once again.

"Greetings, _fräulein_," he greeted. "Welcome to the _Neu Schwarzwind_."

* * *

**(AN: Yay, an abrupt ending!)**

**(I think I hit the inspirational jackpot. So please, whatever you do, don't go! The story's about to get interesting. Glinda, as the main character, is finally going to be introduced first-hand to more of the sorrow against which she has been sheltered all of her life, but which Elphaba has had to face head-on since...ever. It is part of her character development, and therefore essential.)**

**(I don't own _Lord of the Rings_, or any of the Norse tales from which I borrowed in this chapter. Please, review! It will make me very happy indeed.)**


	9. A Grievous Error

**(AN: An interesting question was posed by another concerned ff author: why did Siegfried suggest Patroklos as the bearer of Soul Calibur, even though he was known for having committed murderous atrocities prior? Here is one suggestion.)  
**

**(For the sake of this story, to anyone who's been reading my other _Soul Calibur_ fan-fics, it's loosely based on the over-all canon/universe of my other stories, but only loosely. Therefore, some events from those stories will be mentioned in this one.)  
**

* * *

**A Grievous Error**

Glinda discovered that she could speak, or at least understand, the language they were speaking. It was strange to her ears, and yet, not entirely so: it reminded her heavily of the language spoken by the people of Worms. Perhaps she had, by some bizarre and unexpected twister of fate, inherited the ability to speak and understand their languages. Perhaps there was more magic about her than she had initially imagined. Perhaps she really was losing her marbles.

"Is this the one?" the tall man who looked like Sigurd asked Viola, who barely came up to his chest.

"_Oui_," she replied.

The straw-haired man turned about and greeted her again. "Welcome, _fräulein_ Glinda. I am Siegfried Schtauffen, lord of the Neu Schwarzwind, of which you are our guest. You've already met Viola, I presume."

"Yes, we've met." she said.

"I would like to introduce to you the others of our group," Siegfried continued. "There are many of us, and not all are here assembled this evening. But the most prominent among them are myself, Frau Von Krone..." He gestured to the woman in armor, who saluted Glinda crisply. "And this young man." He pointed to the tall man with dark hair.

"Call me 'Two.'" the strange man said. He was young, younger than Siegfried, that was certain.

"Okay," Glinda began. "First of all, Siegfried, sir, uh, how do you know my name?"

"Viola has told me what little she knows about you," Siegfried answered.

"So, why am I here?" she asked.

"Your friend Viola wanted you to be safe," Siegfried stated. "The only place that is safe anymore is with us."

"Why?" she asked.

"That's what we're here to discuss," Siegfried said, turning now to the others. "I have made a grievous error."

"That's an understatement," the man who introduced himself as 'Two' said.

"_Stille jetzt!_" Hilde shouted, then turned to Siegfried. "Continue, _bitte_."

"My error is, perhaps, greater than any I have ever committed," Siegfried began. "I made a great error in judgment by trusting Patroklos Alexander. I was of the belief that, since his mother was the one who had destroyed Soul Edge in the past, he would have inherited her desire for peace and order. I was wrong: he is consumed by nothing more than a desire for vengeance."

"And I tried to warn you," 'Two' stated.

"And I'm warning _you_," Hildegard Von Krone seethed at 'Two'. "One more outburst and I'll..."

"No, he's right," Siegfried stated. "_Zwei_ argued my decision, others have as well..." He turned to Hilde, indicating that she had done so. "But I dismissed them, all of them. I thought that I was right in choosing the next wielder: the Sword didn't respond to me anymore, and here was the son of one who had destroyed Soul Edge. It seemed reasonable at the time. It was a mistake."

"Uh, excuse me, what is Soul Edge?" Glinda asked.

Several voices spoke up in unison, but Siegfried held up his hand.

"What, dismissing arguments again?" 'Two' arrogantly queried.

"You don't know, none of you do," Siegfried stated. "I was possessed by Soul Edge, I know it better than any of you." He then turned to Glinda. "Soul Edge is a very powerful sword, so powerful that it has an entity of its own, like a living soul. Only this soul is dark and evil, and eternally hungry: it will not stop until it has devoured every soul and burned the whole world in its shadow."

Glinda made a whimper of fear as horrible thoughts filled her mind at what Siegfried had said. Horrible memories, images from the Mirror, filled her mind, making her blood run cold.

"And we need to stop it," Siegfried said.

"But how?" Glinda asked fearfully.

"The other sword I mentioned," Siegfried replied. "Soul Calibur, the Sword of Heroes, the Spirit Sword."

"It's a crock," 'Two' stated. "Just another ultimate power, another menace like Soul Edge."

"No, that's where you're wrong," Siegfried stated. "Our Asian friends said the same, but I've been in control of _both_ swords."

"Wow, you're special!" exclaimed Glinda.

"I was connected to both swords," Siegfried continued. "I have an intimate knowledge of both of them. Soul Calibur was created from a shard of Soul Edge, but it was purified. It molds its soul after that of the bearer, not the other way around, as with Soul Edge. The resolve of each bearer is what it uses to become power, enough to neutralize or even destroy Soul Edge. _That_ is it's purpose."

"I still say it's a malfestor," 'Two' said. "As bad as Soul Edge."

"Another question," Glinda interjected, raising her hand. "What is a malfestor, or malfested, for that matter?"

"Evil things," Siegfried answered. "Inhuman creatures, corrupted by the power of Soul Edge. They were once called the 'Evil Seed', but this new generation has taken to calling them..."

"Malfested," 'Two' said. "Sounds better, don't you think?"

"Not really," Glinda shook her head.

"What do you know, _dummkopf_?" 'Two' retorted.

"Why don't you just shut it, _Zwei_!" Hilde shouted. "We've all made mistakes in the past. But if we can't let that go, we might as well disperse and go each one to their own way."

"And that's where I'm going," 'Two' said, rising from where he had been sitting. "Back east, to find the Azure Knight and end his reign of terror."

"_Zwei_, wait," Siegfried interjected. "The Azure Knight is not the problem anymore. It's Patroklos."

"Yeah?" 'Two' asked. "Well, you were wrong about him in the first place, who's to say you're not wrong about him _this_ time too?" Without another word, he left the group, not even looking back.

"He will die," Viola stated, her voice devoid of emotion.

"And to make matters worse," Siegfried said. "Our outside agents are still operating on their old orders: to _help_ Patroklos."

"Can't we reach them?" Von Krone asked. "Tell them about the new developments?"

"_Non_," Viola shook her head. "Madame Valentine does not use scrying crystals, nor do our Eastern friends."

Silence fell among the group, having already lost a member before the battle had even begun. Viola's hopeless prognostication seemed only amplified by the dark, window-less room in which their group had assembled. Glinda, meanwhile, had been listening to all that they had been saying, and still none of it made any sense. Not that she was intentionally ignoring what they had to say, or that what they said was beyond her comprehension, but because she had absolutely no clue about what they were discussing. At last, unable to contain herself, she rose from where she had been sitting.

"Look," she began. "I sympathize with your plight, I really do. I mean, I've been in some tough situations, where weapons of untold power have been fought over by many people. It wasn't pretty, and many people died."

"We're aware of the risks, _fräulein_." Von Krone stated. "We've faced this kind of danger before."

"No, that's not what I mean," Glinda stated. "I-I don't mean to discourage you from your course, but I don't know how I can be of help. All I'm here for is to find my friend, and she doesn't figure into your plots. So just let me go and find her!" She ended almost shouting, her chest heaving with the vehemence of her declaration.

"_Au contrare_," Viola answered. "I think she figures into this plan quite easily."

"Yes, the prisoner." Hilde stated.

"Wait, who? What prisoner?" Glinda asked.

"Our scouts were looting the wreckage of a battlefield," Siegfried began. "They picked up someone heavily wounded: a servant of Soul Edge. She's in our custody. She's...well, she's said some strange things. She _did_ mention a green-skinned woman."

"That's her!" Glinda exclaimed, rising to her feet, heart beating with joy and the anticipation of finally getting some solid, concrete evidence that her search had not been entirely in vain. "That's Elphie!"

"'Elphie?'" Von Krone asked.

"The green-skinned woman, her name is Elphaba Thropp," Glinda explained, turning then to Siegfried. "Please, let me see her."

"I advise strongly against it," Siegfried interjected. "She's highly unstable."

"Elphie's in trouble, I have to find her. And if your prisoner knows where to find her, I'm willing to accept any risk. Now take me to her."

* * *

**(AN: Finally made a little bit of sense from the story of _SCV_, now all I've got to do is fix it [lol].)**

**(There's my explanation for why Siegfried shot down all opposing arguments and doubts about Patroklos being "the Holy Warrior." He assumed that, because he was Sophitia's daughter, he was the only candidate, being raised by such a righteous woman. What he didn't know, however, is that that was not the case. Of course, he failed and made a miscalculation in judgment, which is why Z.W.E.I. [aka 'Two'] left and made his appearance in chapter 18.)  
**


	10. The Prisoner

**(AN: If anyone is reading this who was directed here-to from _Tira: A Tale of Torment, _you're in the right place.)  
**

**(Sorry for the long time it took to update: college is soul-crushing, especially when you have no friends and a sea of problems. Oh well, you don't need that, just the story. So here we are. [disclaimer: all references to Tolkien's work are his and NOT mine. They are only there because the previous adventures of the _Ozian Adventures_ series featured such and are needful for reference.] Enjoy!)  
**

* * *

**The Prisoner**

Glinda was led into a room by one of the _Schwarzwind_, a young woman clad in armor like the lady Von Krone. She reminded her of Nessarose: a pleasant, oval face with long, dark hair. She had small lips and an otherwise plain frame, neither large nor narrow like Elphaba. Were it not for her armor, Glinda doubted not that she could easily overlook this young woman were she in the midst of a crowd.

"I don't understand," she said at last. "I thought I was going to see the prisoner your leader spoke of before."

"So you shall," the young woman said. "It was requested, however, that you be given a new change of clothes."

"Thank you!" Glinda sighed. "I've been traveling for so long, my clothes must surely reek!"

"_Nicht zu danken_," the young woman replied. "Now, I will leave you alone while you change your clothes. When you are finished, come outside and say so."

"Thank you again, uh..." she said, just as the woman was starting to depart. "Wait! What's your name?"

"_Hauptmann_ Olschmidt," replied the young woman.

"Glinda, the ga is silent," she stated. "Oh, just where _are_ these clothes you want me to wear?"

"Over there, in that chest," Olschmidt stated, pointing to an oaken chest lying at the corner of a meager bed at one corner of the room. "_Auf Wiedersehen._"

She left the room, and Glinda opened the chest, rummaging about for something appropriate to wear. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the bright, sparkly pastel colors with which she was familiar and would have preferred. Eventually, she found a simple dress in a kind of teal blue color, along with heavy riding boots: hardly her first choice, but she had been wearing riding boots for a whole year now that it was almost second nature. Her hair was still in its long braid, similar to how Elphaba had worn her hair before she had 'Galindafied' her: braiding was how the women wore their hair in Worms, especially if they were married. She wasn't married, but she didn't want men pursuing her like a deer on the hunt, so she kept her hair tied thusly. Without any time for washing, she had kept her filthy, sand-encrusted hair in its horrible braid, waiting for the moment when she would have a proper bath.

For now, however, the dress and boots were enough. Now in a pair of clean clothes, she walked outside and told the young Olschmidt girl that she was ready.

"_Sehr gut_," she replied. "Come, I will take you to where they keep the prisoner."

"Wait, there's one other thing," Glinda interjected.

"_Was?_"

"Could I, uh, could it be arranged for me to...have a bath?"

"A bath!" exclaimed Olschmidt. "Now why on Earth would you want a bath?"

"Because I'm filthy and smelly and covered in..." she looked at her hair: usually a shining blond, it looked like a dark shade of gold with so much oil in it. At last she gave a shudder of revolt and exclaimed: "Ugh!"

"Ach, _das ist nicht sorgen_," she replied. "We'll deal with that later. Come on now."

Glinda was rather disgusted that they had such disregard for personal hygiene, especially the women. Though she usually didn't say so, it had not been pleasant at all, traveling with Elphaba and Fiyero. First they were with the Fellowship, all male, by the way, and some of them a little more rank than the others. When at last it was just the three of them (or five, including Nessa and Liir), she hoped there would be fewer smell issues. Unfortunately, Nessa was a horse and Elphaba was pregnant, not to mention Fiyero smelled the worst, being a man. In Worms, no one seemed to mind the odors or much else for that matter: she had seen some men wash their faces in the same water their fellows had spat in moments ago. Though she had had a bath in Iceland, she hadn't any other since then. In Maaptia, aside from everyone feeling grimy beyond belief due to the sand (it did, after all, get everywhere), both Boq and Kloxolk reeked of oil and, of course, Liir made a mess of himself more often than not.

_I_ need_ a bath,_ she bemoaned as she followed Olschmidt.

* * *

Their room was underground and Olschmidt let Glinda up a flight of wooden stairs to the top floor. They were inside something that looked like it had once been a monastery of some sort. _Hauptmann_ Olschmidt stated that it had been destroyed almost a hundred years ago during the _Deutscher Bauernkrieg_, and had never been rebuilt since then. The _Schwarzwind_ now used the ruins as their headquarters; for, though several attempts had been made at restoring the monastery, it had at last been abandoned.

_Hauptmann_ Olschmidt let Glinda across the ruined courtyard to what had once been the chapel. Its spire had been torn down, the roof had collapsed and all the stained glass windows broken, but it still struck an austere, imposing figure.

"So, where are we going?" Glinda asked as they walked through what was left of the chapel.

"There's usually a cellar beneath every chapel," Olschmidt stated. "Whatever they're used for, God only knows. But we've converted this one for the use of containing our prisoner."

"Who is he?" Glinda asked.

"She," Olschmidt corrected. "A servant of Soul Edge."

"What's Soul Edge again?"

"Ask Herr Schtauffen," she said. "He knows more about it than any of us, except Frau Valentine."

Glinda's little head was spinning. It was more than she could handle, since none of this meant anything to her. For her, the only thing that mattered right now was finding Elphaba again. This 'prisoner' of theirs was the only lead she might possibly have connecting her to her Elphie.

Olschmidt led Glinda to the back of the chapel and through a corridor of stone with a winding staircase leading underground.

"Uh, excuse me, Miss, uh, Old-schmist-person?"

"Call me Salia." she replied.

"Thanks, that's easier to remember. So, Salia, uh, what exactly do you do in this...group?"

"The _Schwarzwind_ used to be a gang of bandits," she began. "Until Herr Schtauffen reorganized us into a mercenary group: now we hunt down the servants of Soul Edge. Though the Sword has been dormant for many years, Herr Schtauffen believes it is still at large and I believe he's right. In Hungary, these is this count, Graf Dumas, who has been attacking villages and towns said to be afflicted by 'malfestation.'"

Glinda's ears perked up: she had heard that word before, coming from the blond youth who had attacked her.

"You see to know quite a lot," Glinda stated instead.

"That's because I was part of the first _Schwarzwind_," she replied. "I was very young, pretty much just a lookout. But that was years ago: now..."

"Yes?"

They had arrived at the bottom of the staircase, and Salia removed a torch from its iron fixture on the stone wall and turned to Glinda.

"Never mind," she said. "I am proud to serve under Herr Schtauffen, and that is all."

They arrived in the cellar, where they were greeted by Siegfried, the one whom Salia called Herr Schtauffen, and Hildegard Von Krone, his lieutenant. Behind them, up against a wall, was a young looking woman with pale skin. What struck Glinda immediately, apart from her torn and frayed clothing, was her hair: it was dyed white, black and violet, then tied into two entwining braids that hung from either side of her head like ponytails.

"_Fräulein_ Glinda," Siegfried said. "I must advise you against seeing the prisoner."

"Why?"

"She's...unstable."

"I'm not a child, sir." Glinda interjected. "Tell me the truth."

"Your pardon, my lady. This...woman..." He pointed at the girl in chains. "Is hardly worthy of the word. She is a wild thing, raised by the ravens, who kills for pleasure. If you are to speak to her, you must not be easily unnerved by her words: she delights in torturing her opponents."

"I need to speak to her." she repeated.

"As you wish," Siegfried sighed. "Von Krone and myself will remain here, we'll keep an eye on the prisoner while you interrogate her."

Glinda nodded, then made her way towards the prisoner. The young woman did not flinch as she approached; instead, she seemed to be calming down, staring at Glinda with her heavy-lidded violet eyes. It was no trick of the light: her eyes were, both of them, violet like the amethyst plains of the Lowlands of Gilikin. Something else was wrong with her, for as Glinda walked closer to her, she could feel that there was something horribly wrong with this strange woman.

"Why, hello, beautiful!" cooed the woman in a playful voice with a smile on her face.

"Who are you?" Glinda asked.

"Tira, that's all you need to know." the girl replied, her voice growing suspicious and angry.

"Where did you find her?" Glinda inquired, turning back to Siegfried.

"Some of my men were searching for a party that had disappeared somewhere in Hungary," Siegfried answered. "They found her on the edge of an old battlefield, wounded but otherwise alive. She..."

"Popinjay!" the girl called Tira snarled at Siegfried.

"I hear you know something about my f..." Glinda began, but suddenly thought better of it.

"About what, my pretty?" leered Tira, her voice dark and sinister.

"About a woman with green skin." Glinda replied.

"Oh, I do!" Tira replied, now sounding practically tickled pink with the prospect of divulging this information.

"Tell me what you know." Glinda demanded.

"Oh, nothing much," Tira began, shaking the chains upon her arms idly, as though the rattling pleased her. "I was in Hof, shepherding a stupid little brat about who had a thing for killing people, when all of a sudden..._boo!_" She lurched at Glinda, who gave a start. Tira laughed merrily at scaring her prey.

"A witch appeared, straight out of a story book: green skin and everything!" she continued. "She kidnapped the poor little girl, calling her Dorothy and hitting her over and over!" She laughed. "It was so much fun, I almost wished it was _me_ hitting her!"

"That doesn't sound like Elphie," Glinda mused.

"What a ridiculous name for a witch!" laughed Tira, who then began to sing a little mocking melody. "Elphie! Oh, my name is Elphie and I'm a wicked old witch!"

"Just stop it!" Glinda shouted. "What happened then?"

"I followed her," Tira said, her voice uninterested and gloomy. "When the time was right, I attacked and took the little b*tch from her." She looked up, a smile on her face and a wicked fire burning in her violet eyes.

"But that's all in the past!" she began, her voice heavy with joy. "All this happened weeks ago. My plan is already in motion, and there's nothing you can do to stop it! Very soon, the world and everything in it will come to an end! You're all going to die!"

Tira laughed maniacally, rattling the chains in exultation. Glinda was disgusted beyond belief. The Wizard was a trickster, but she had seen him break down in tears when he learned he had brought about the (supposed) death of his daughter. Madam Morrible did cruel deeds, but she was never one to gloat publicly about how many Animals she had broken or how many tongues were silenced. Only the cruel orcs and the wicked Variags, weak and lesser in their strength, breeding and stature to the men of Rohan, Gondor, Worms or even Oz, were truly happy and joyful at causing other people harm.

With hands shaking from the fearful memories of hideous faces painted white and black, she backed away from the lunatic woman.

"I've heard enough," she sighed as she passed Siegfried and Von Krone.

"_Hauptmann_," Siegfried ordered. "Take _Fräulein_ Glinda back to her room."

"_Ja_." Salia Olschmidt replied eagerly. With Salia's arm around her shoulder, Glinda left the cellar of the chapel, eager to be as far away from that horrifying woman.

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

"We should kill her," Von Krone said once Glinda had left.

"_Nein_," Siegfried replied.

"But she delights in killing!" the other retorted. "If we let her go, who knows what other kind of mischief she will cause us!"

"We must show her mercy."

"Mercy? She'll turn on us the first chance she gets."

"True," he replied. "But you showed mercy to me many years ago, when I did not deserve it. I have not forgotten your deed, and will show the same even to an enemy. Trust me, Hilde. I know I have made mistakes, grievous ones, recently, but I know that I am not mistaken here."

Hilde sighed.

"As you wish." she relented.

* * *

**(AN: Yay! Tira's not dead, nor will she die! I just couldn't bring myself to kill off a fan-favorite [not when _SCV_ was doing such a good job of it on their own -heavy sarcasm-].)**

**(As for the development of our story, that is happening as well. Hopefully the next chapter will come soon, but when it does, we will get to see how it plays in with the rest of the story.)  
**


	11. No Thought of Tomorrow

**(AN: Here's something new for you dedicated readers [that means you, _ComingandGoingbyBubble_]: a new chapter!)**

**(I know this might not mean much to those who are _Wicked_ fans and haven't spent much time with _Soul Calibur_, but I had a tough time deciding on the inclusion of Salia Olschmidt. She is a minor character, never appeared in the series, and her only purpose is to marry Siegfried [something of a low-level Mary Sue, anyone?]. I ended up including her because a] Glinda needs a friend to help her through this part of her journey [she's not yet at the part where she puts on the big girl gloves and starts fighting] and b] Hilde, as mentioned in _Siegfried_, had to grow up early because of circumstances and therefore pitting her and Glinda together would be like Hilde and Cassandra [lol].)  
**

* * *

**No Thought of Tomorrow**

Glinda remained in the camp of the Schwarzwind for at least three more days. The trial with the hysterical prisoner had taken its toll on her more than a three day march through a desert without food or water. She spent most of her time lying down, curled up in a blanket against the cold. She shivered and fretted by herself, unable to remember much about light, warmth or companionship. Those precious few days she had had with Elphaba seemed like a lifetime ago and thrice more.

At the third day, after she had spent so much time alone, stewing and wallowing in her depression, a friendly face came knocking at the door.

"_Fräulein_ Glinda," the ever-cheerful voice of Salia called out from behind the door.

"Yes?" Glinda asked, peering up from where she had been laying down on the makeshift bed.

"May I come in?"

"Yes, please!" she replied, perhaps a bit hasty. The door opened and there stood Salia, dressed in armor which she was fastening onto her person as she spoke.

"Glinda," she began. "I'm sorry we have been ignoring you, but the Schwarzwind have been busy. _Der Alptraum_ was sighted in Greece and we've heard other rumors more disheartening as well."

"What rumors?"

"Plenty of time for that later," she said. "We're moving out right now, which is why I've come. _Herr_ Schtauffen wants you to join us in our march south."

"Der who?"

"_Der Alptraum_," Salia repeated. "Perhaps you know him as the Azure Knight?"

"I've heard of that," Glinda said slowly. "But I have no idea what or who he is."

"All will be explained once we've left this monastery," Salia said. "For now, get what is yours packed and be ready to leave as soon as I return."

Once more, as Salia Olschmidt closed the door behind her, Glinda felt like such useless baggage. She had a weapon, she longed to be out there, searching for Elphaba, yet she had been kept in a cellar for three days. They had given her food thrice a day, but everyone was so busy doing whatever it was they were doing - none of them mentioned it in conversation or would explain it to her if she asked them to - that she could scarce manage a word or two between them.

But she had nothing else to go on. If she gave up now, she would not only be stranded here in this strange world, but it would also mean abandoning Elphaba to whatever end fate had in store for her.

* * *

There was little time to get ready, and Glinda carried so little with herself as it was, that she was ready before Salia knocked again on the door. They then went together to the courtyard of the abbey, where Siegfried Schtauffen was arranging two groups of the Schwarzwind. One group, headed by Hildegard von Krone, his lieutenant, would go south towards Greece, to investigate the sightings of the Azure Knight. The other group, led by Siegfried and the one with which Glinda would be traveling, would go east, into Hapsburg Hungary. There were unconfirmed rumors of the sighting of some kind of blue-clad creature making its way, and many warriors were heading there as well, eager to destroy the Azure Knight.

As she approached Siegfried, surrounded momentarily by busy mercenaries who ran to do their leader's bidding almost immediately, she walked behind Salia, not wanting to make herself very public. She didn't know what she would be able to do in whatever it was they were doing, but she was unimportant to their plans.

"_Fräulein_ Glinda," Siegfried said, mentioning her name suddenly. She stepped out from behind Salia, then made her way sheepishly before Siegfried.

"Yes, sir?" she asked. Her voice sounded small and weak in her own ears. _Come on,_ Glinda! she thought._ You're a natural public speaker, you shouldn't have these kinds of problems!_

"_Fräulein_ Viola says that you are a seer," he said.

"I...don't exactly know what you..."

"Your crystal, idiot," the monotonous, condescending voice of Viola spoke from Siegfried's left-hand side. "Do you still have it with you?"

Glinda nodded, producing the small orb in her right hand and holding it up that the three of them might see it.

"_Sehr gut_," Siegfried smiled. "You can help us."

"Help? How?"

"_Fräulein_ Viola is going with _Fräulein_ Von Krone south into Greece," Siegfried began. "But we've learned our lessons now. Rather than send runners between the two groups, crossing miles and miles of many countries, some of which are in the throes of war, we can communicate much faster through the use of your crystals. _Fräulein_ Viola will report to you every night of what happens, and then you report to me. Understood?"

"Yes," she nodded. Though, inside, she wondered if she liked being thrust into a part of their troubles. She had enough troubles as it was, and she could scarcely handle many more as well, especially if it meant the safety of so many people, as this responsibility surely meant.

But she had had that kind of responsibility before. After Elphaba disappeared, she became responsible for the keeping of the people of Oz until she received the "summons", and ended up taking care of Fiyero when he and she were left alone in a dark and evil wilderness. Though it was very difficult, it meant she would be doing more than just sitting by herself, watching everyone else do something important: for once, she would be more than baggage or nuisance.

As the division of the two groups continued, Glinda wondered if Salia would join her group or that of _Fräulein_ von Krone. She hoped secretly that it would be _her_ group, since she had no other female companions with which to talk. Most of the Schwarzwind were men, and while there were two women among those Siegfried had mentioned as their "Eastern friends", she had not met them yet and was told by Salia that they could speak very little of their language.

While the two battalions were being divided up, Glinda saw four of the most outlandish characters she had ever seen. The tallest of them was a man who looked about Fiyero's age and, from his clothing and jacket, which opened up at the front like 'Two', acted like him as well. The others were obviously younger, perhaps even younger than _she_ was: two young girls and a lad. The lad was clad in very shabby clothes, though he wore pants that were orange with dark stripes upon the legs and the tail of a money hanging out of the backside of his belt. He had messy red hair, a long red quarterstaff and was currently devouring something in a bowl. The taller of the two ladies was blond, dressed in red and was balancing herself awkwardly on one foot: but it was her hair that drew Glinda's attention. The shorter of the ladies was dressed in a floor-length dress, embroidered with such pretty images that Glinda soon became envious. The girl, however, kept her eyes to the ground and didn't seem all that open with anyone: for a moment, Glinda's heart went out to her.

* * *

When at last, everyone was ready, the two parties separated: one going to the south, towards Greece, and Siegfried's company south and east. Few horses they had, and most of these were being used by the scouts who went on ahead of the main company. Therefore it was that Glinda had to walk. She saw no sign of Salia Olschmidt since she had woken her up from where she had been sleeping, and she found herself terribly beset by loneliness. She was without her Elphie and in a world with which she was quite alien. She half-guessed, by reason of the language mostly spoken by the Schwarzwind, that she was in the same world she had lived in for many months, Midgard, but in a time many years after that time in which she had first visited. She knew little else, apart from what little she had gleaned from Siegfried and the others about their plight, though she yearned to know more.

The company marched on for many hours without stopping. They carried with them enough supplies for a long journey by foot, and while they used them sparingly, Glinda found that there was never a lack of food. It was dry and some of it was in very poor condition, but it kept her on her feet more than nothing. Her crystal was empty and whether that was a good sign or an ill omen, she knew not.

Around her, the land changed from the forests to wide, open plains, dotted with mountains in the distance. They had come many miles in a short time and were now upon the borders of the Holy Roman Empire and Hapsburg Hungary: thither they were going. After some time, Siegfried called for a halt and for camp to be set up for the oncoming of night. Siegfried set told Glinda to find herself a fire and warm herself with those about it, where they would give her food. As she made her way there, she sat down and soon found herself with someone she hadn't seen for many long hours.

"Salia!" she exclaimed.

"_Fräulein_ Glinda!" the young woman exclaimed.

"What are you doing here?" Glinda asked.

"I was assigned to _Fräulein_ Viola's group," she began. "But I insisted that I join this company."

"I'm glad you did," Glinda stated. "And I wish you would have made your presence known sooner: I have been terribly lonely."

"I am sorry for your loneliness," Salia began. "But it was not for your sake that I joined Siegfried's company, and it was at his insistence that I kept my presence scarce." She hesitated for a moment, looking away from Glinda and at the fire that was flickering in the blue hours of sunset, while the sun was only half a bowl far away on the horizon back the way they had come.

"Go on," Glinda urged. Silence passed between the two of them for quite some time, but at last, Salia spoke her mind and heart.

"I was part of the first Schwarzwind group, when I was a young girl," she said. "Back when it was a gang of ruffians and murderers. Siegfried was among us in those days, and when he left us suddenly, I went in search of him in secret. When at last I heard of the reemergence of the Schwarzwind, I went thither and found Siegfried returned: I returned to the _Neu Gruppe_ immediately. My place is here, at..." She hesitated once again before speaking.

"At the side of Siegfried," she said at last. "My heart and my life belong to him, and all other matters are of little to no concern to my heart. Only I fear that he does not recognize my desires: or, worse yet, that, knowing them, he does not feel likewise."

Glinda remained silent all the while Salia told her her tale, listening instead of talking. She found that she had a knack for listening: though the urge to speak was strong and she wanted to say something, since she feared what would happen should Salia be continued to go deluded as she had been going so far, she kept her peace until the tale was told. When at last Salia was over, Glinda smiled.

"Why do you smile?"

"I see so much of myself in your eyes," she replied. "I also was in love, once upon a time. I would have done anything for him, given of myself instantly, without a single thought of care or regret." She sighed, the vivid memory of a painful revelation in the throne room of the Emerald City rising up from the depths of her memory. "I know now that it was not him to which I was in love, but the idea of being with someone."

_What are you saying!_ she thought. _You almost sound like Elphie! Please, say something nice and encouraging before she starts sulking!_

She turned back to Salia with another broad smile beaming across her lips.

"But things change," she said. "Perhaps the fates will be kinder to you and grant you your heart's desire. Until then, you must never give up hope."

"_Dankeschon_," Salia replied with a nod. "You seen to be wiser than your appearances, _Fräulein_ Glinda. Indeed, you look to be not much older than myself, and yet you speak as though out of great fountains of wisdom and experience."

"Uh, thanks...I think."

"_Bitte_," Salia continued. "I would like to know more. You seem like such an interesting person, I would long to know from whence comes such wisdom and goodness. Who were your father and mother? From which country do you hail?"

"Oh, there's not much to tell," Glinda shrugged.

"But I want to know everything," Salia returned. "Tell me about yourself, if that is not too presumptuous."

"What I'm about to say," she said. "Might sound very strange to you, but I promise that it is all true."

With a sigh, Glinda began her tale. She started as far back as she could remember, keeping out very little and what she did was of the utmost privacy: such things were few and far between, but she hadn't even told her mother and father or Elphaba. Though Salia knew nothing of the strange names Glinda mentioned, such as Oz, the Wizard, Elves, Midgard and Maaptia, she was a good audience nonetheless. When Glinda depicted the events of recent months, she sighed in sorrow at her inability to find Elphaba.

"And when you find her, what then?" Salia asked at last.

"She has to return to her husband and child," Glinda replied. "They need her."

"I meant, what will happen to _you_ when you find her?"

Glinda paused, realizing that she had never really thought about this. There had been no thought of tomorrow in all of their wanderings, and she had absolutely no idea of what she would do once they were back together. Return to Maaptia, perhaps, and then what?

"I..." she stammered. "I'm starving. Can I please eat?"

"Of course," Salia nodded. "I'll get you something."

* * *

At night-time, Glinda slept by herself in a tent one of the others had given her. The camp-fires were well away from the tents to prevent fire, so Glinda wrapped herself in a heavy blanket to keep warm. It had been the first time she had slept in blankets since Worms, and she treasured what little warmth they gave her. In her hands was the gift from her red-headed double, the scrying crystal. All that day she had received no word from Viola, which made her somewhat satisfied. She didn't want to be a part of anything, unless it was a search for Elphaba. With one hand over her crystal, she fell asleep in her blanket.

When she awoke, she found herself in a place she herself had never visited, though she had heard much about this part of Oz: the swamplands of Quadling. She was on her feet, dressed in a pale blue dress and wearing Elvish boots. Looking about, she saw Nessa as a black horse, walking slowly behind with Elphaba on her back. Leading the horse was Fiyero, who looked rather wearied. Glinda didn't know when she had been thus with them.

"I think we should make camp," he panted. "We've been walking for so long, I sometimes wish I was still a scarecrow."

"Aww, you shouldn't think that, Fifi," Glinda said, though she knew not from whence the words came. They were from her lips and in her own voice, but she did not command those words to be spoken.

"I'm still confusified about this whole ordeal," he stated. "I mean, this _is_ Oz, and yet I'm human. I thought Elphaba's magic would be reversed when we came back to Oz."

"Don't ask why you got gifts, as they say in Gilikin," Glinda stated. "You should be happy to be human." At this, the horse neighed, nodding her head up and down. "See? Even Nessa agrees with me."

"Fiyero's right," Elphaba said. Upon hearing those words, Glinda felt her heart cracking all down the middle. It had been so long since she heard the voice of her beloved friend, she had almost forgotten what it sounded like.

"It's almost time to rest," she continued. "We've gone quite far in one day's march."

"Yes," Fiyero said. "If I'm correct, we'll be within sight of Kumbricia's Pass sometime tomorrow morning. From then on, it should be just a few days to Kiamo Ko and the Emerald City."

Glinda watched as they made camp for the night. They had little means of starting fires save for Elphaba's magic, and she was currently under the weather due to her pregnancy. Glinda knew that she had not been here in this part of their journey, for she guessed that this was ancient Oz. Perhaps this was one of the memories of her double, summoned up from her subconsciousness through her talk with Salia about her past.

They huddled together for warmth, with Nessa standing to shield them from the wind that was whistling in the east. Elphaba nestled in Fiyero's arms, a gesture of warmth and tenderness she had not seen Elphaba give to him in so many weeks. Glinda sat next to Elphaba, trying to keep out the cool night of the swamp air.

"So, what happens now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Elphaba queried.

"I mean, once we're back in civilization," Glinda said. "What will you and Fif...Fiyero do once you're back? I mean, you can't exactly just waltz through the gates of the Emerald City and ask for a room for two."

"I know," Elphaba sighed. "Fiyero and I had so many plans before, but, I guess we'll just have to see what happens."

"What plans?"

"Well," she began. "First off, we had hoped on staying in Rohan, or anywhere in Middle Earth. That was where we were and we decided that we would settle down and start a family there, at least in one of the places more easily defended, like Rivendell. But then we left and now we're back in Oz, whether we like to be or not and with all that has happened..." She sighed wearily, knowing all too well of what evil had befallen her in Oz before on account of her skin color.

"I guess we'll go somewhere else," she said. "There are rumors of lands beyond the Deadly Desert."

"But you never believed in those rumors, Elphie," Glinda replied. "You said they were just myths."

"No, I said the Desert being deadly was a myth," she said. "Just a way of keeping travelers from leaving Oz, or of shutting Oz away from the outside world."

"No, you never believed in other worlds to begin with," Glinda stated.

"Will you just shut up!" she growled. Glinda balked at Elphaba's sudden outburst.

"I'm sorry, Elphie!" she sobbed in reply, turning her back away from the two of them in dejection.

"Glinda, please," Elphaba sighed. "I didn't mean it. I mean, I believed a lot of stupid stuff long ago. But, I guess, now that I've seen differently, I should change my views."

"What use then are your views if you change them so easily?" Glinda asked.

"Wow," Fiyero suddenly stated. "That was really profound."

"It just came to me all of a sudden," she replied.

"Sounds stupid," Elphaba replied.

"That's not nice!"

"And what _you_ said wasn't smart. We _should_ be more flexible and not so unbending."

"Nevertheless, you didn't answer my first question."

"Which was?"

"What will you do once you've gone...wherever it is you plan on going?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Elphaba sighed. "I suppose we will have to do _something_ in order to provide for ourselves. I can't be stealing food like I did when I was on the run."

"You stole!" Glinda gasped.

"I couldn't walk up to the nearest market and ask for bread and water," Elphaba laughed. "Could you see me buying food at market as the Wicked Wi..."

"Don't call yourself that! You shouldn't believe all those nasty rumors they said about you. It's like you and your father all over again."

Silence fell over them once again. Glinda knew that Elphaba hadn't told Fiyero her secret about her sister, and she hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. It seemed still to have a very profound affect on the green-skinned woman.

"I really don't know what I'd do," Elphaba said at last. "I wasn't allowed to attend the public schools at Colwen Grounds, my father kept me locked up in the attic. Sometimes I would swipe one of Nessa's books and read them just for fun, but then when it became clear to my father that her precious little Nessa needed someone to hold her hand and help her all the time and he couldn't be there, he let me take classes as her tutor."

At these words, the horse hung its head and looked away. Had they known the truth about this horse, as Glinda, within her own body and yet not her own in this dream-like state, knew, they would have noted that look for shame and embarrassment: perhaps even sorrow at being deemed so little in the eyes of her sister.

"I took all of Nessa's classes and learned everything she had to know, so I could help her with her work if she needed it."

"Why not teach?"

"Me, a teacher?" Elphaba laughed. "I'd scare anyone away with my green skin."

"You shouldn't say that, Elphie!" Glinda retorted. "I think you would make a fine teacher."

"Thanks, Glinda." Elphaba replied monotonously. "Now get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us."

She found herself resting her head down upon the springy grass, and wondered if she were indeed dreaming or if she was about to wake up. Was it possible to fall asleep while in the midst of a dream? Such higher thoughts gave Glinda a headache, since she was not accustomed to such complex thinking. It also made her tired, which made the desire for sleep greater and much more welcome.

But she could not sleep. She heard a voice calling her name, but it was not any voice of those she was with right now. They were all off asleep, and yet she heard a voice whispering, calling her name.

_Glinda._

She rubbed her eyes, but the swamp in night was all that met her view. Was this still a dream, or why was she not waking?

_Glinda._

The voice called again, and she looked about here and there, longing to see who it was who had called her name. There was a purplish light glowing off in the distance somewhere, but she never remembered seeing any such light until...until...

_But this isn't my memory_, she said. I_ wasn't __here, even though...I _kind of_ w__as._

_Glinda!_

* * *

She awoke with a start back in the tent, surrounded by the noise of the sleeping members of the Schwarzwind. It had all been a dream: it _must_ have been a dream, for Glinda never remembered actually being in that incident, though she was almost dead certain that it had indeed happened. How or why she knew that it was real, even though she had never physically experienced that event, she could not articulate, nor had she the time to do so, for something was calling for her, crying out her name in fear and urgency.

"Glinda! Where are you?"

She looked about here and there and saw that she was alone inside her tent. Yet something was amiss, for the tent was flooded with violet light: the same kind of light she had seen in her dream, only brighter and burning with greater intensity. She sniffed, but there was no smoke, only the hideous stench of her unwashed body and all the filth she had taken upon her since her last wash. There was no heat either, only the deathly chill of the cold night air floating through the tent. Her hand came to rest on the folded blanket that served as her pillow, and she suddenly remembered her charge. Siegfried had given her the task of reporting what _Fräulein_ Viola had seen on her end, for she had a scrying crystal as well. Yet nothing had happened at all that day, and she thought that there had been nothing to report: but now...

She pushed the pillow-blanket aside and saw her tiny glass ball, burning with violet like like a purple star fallen to the ground. She picked it up, expecting some sudden heat or sharp jab of pain, such as she had felt when her hands graced the _palantir_ of Orthanc. Yet there was no pain as she touched it, nor any foul images inside the amethyst depths of the glass as she gazed into its depths. A young woman's face with white hair was glaring up nervously at her.

"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Viola. "Where have you been? I have been trying to reach you for hours on end! You must find Siegfried, wake him immediately! Something terrible has happened to the Sword!"

* * *

**(AN: That is all I dare to write.)**

**(This was the token long-chapter, and while I promised more on Glinda's past, it didn't turn out that way. Sorry it took so long to update, but school is crushing out my will to write [along with other things]. I haven't really updated anything, nor have much drive to do so. So enjoy this chapter. Please leave your reviews, they are most helpful, welcome and appreciated.)  
**

**(In other news, I've noted the progression of the _Ozian Adventures_ story has featured something of my own personal experiences. Surprise surprise. I thought I was just coming up with a good adventure story in which Elphaba and Glinda learn something and mature as characters and as people, but I've been spewing my own filth into the mix of this story. Would you like to know where and how?)  
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	12. The Ritual

**(AN: I actually wrote down some notes about the next two and a half chapters, so I know where I'm going rather than just making it up as I go along. My ultimate goal, aside from what I said about Glinda and Elphaba [character development], is to make some of the new characters important to the progression of this story.)  
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**(I've also got to finish the telling of Tira's tale, since she's obviously not dead)  
**

* * *

**The Ritual**

Glinda was practically dragged to her feet and pulled to Siegfried's tent. Already, several torches had been prepared and Siegfried was already standing there, clad in armor up to the waist. Glinda had with her only the glass orb, into which she had received her horrible new information. Everything else was back in the tent.

"Here she is, sir." one of the men said, as he brought Glinda before Siegfried. As this was the middle of the night, no chairs or places to sit had been placed out, so everyone stood, including Glinda.

"What did you see?" Siegfried asked.

"I don't know!" Glinda sighed. "I was practically dragged out of bed and..."

"Listen," Siegfried replied. "I apologize for our methods, but we _need_ to know what the others have found. Now, tell me, what did you see?"

"I saw Viola," Glinda said. "Or _Fräulein_ Viola, whatever. She said that something had happened to Soul Calibur. Look, what does that mean? I don't really understand much of..."

"There's no time," Siegfried replied. He then went about to his lieutenants and before long, even Glinda knew their next move: they were moving out. They had at least thirteen miles east to go and they would be going on forced march. Time was of the essence and Siegfried said they had wasted enough time as it was and so, barely awake and with almost no breakfast, Glinda gathered her things and set off with the rest of the Schwarzwind on their march eastward.

**-~-z-|-Ø-|-z-~-**

If Glinda thought she had experienced the worst of long distance marches on less than adequate food, she was sorely surprised with this forced march. Not only was she tired from having spent the next several hours of the early morning awake and marching instead of sleeping, she had no food since the Schwarzwind were marching swiftly and had no time to prepare anything. Furthermore, she was almost completely separated from Salia, and had no one her own age with whom she could speak: the two young women from the band of Easterners who followed them spoke little of any language she understood.

Though she didn't know it, they made excellent progress. By mid-to-late afternoon, around five o'clock, they arrived on the borders of the Great Hungarian Plain. Their heading was a castle, small in the distance, which Siegfried named Denevér. His agents told him that one Graf Dumas, the public alias of _Der Alptraum_, held sway over this castle.

The sun was already going down in the west once they reached the grounds just outside of the castle. What they found was perhaps the most shocking thing any of them could have imagined. Glinda, who had spent some time in this world, thought that there were no strange or fearsome creatures in this world: she was immediately proven wrong. About the walls of the castle were the bodies of giants, dragons and, here and there, in smoldering ruins, a bird-like creature or two of great size. Among these were also the bodies of soldiers, bearing many standards and in different garb.

Glinda thought she had seen the worst of warfare at Minas Tirith, but what she saw here brought back the sounds and sights of the dead and dying. The battle was long finished and the bodies were now swollen and befouled by vermin. Faces were no longer pale but a sickly yellowish color, and the blood had turned to black. The stench was so unbearable that she had to keep her hand over her mouth just to keep from vomiting. She also had trouble keeping from tripping over limbs or in pools of still wet blood.

She walked with Salia at her side, who had finally found her and told her to stay with her as she scoured the battlefield as they were ordered to do. Glinda wanted to call out to them, to ask that she be allowed to leave the battlefield for fresh air. But she felt so ill with so much death and the reek of death about her like a great gray cloud, blocking out the sun and all memory of beauty, life and wholesomeness, that she could not bear to remove her hand from off her face to speak.

"_Mein Gott!_" Salia exclaimed. Glinda turned about and saw the young woman running among the bodies to a fresh one that had not yet turned yellow with decay. It was the body of a man, clad in black and lying on its face.

She knelt down and turned the body over in her arms. Glinda saw immediately the face of he who called himself 'Two'. He had been stabbed through the back and his face was ashen gray. There was no peace in his face, only shock over utter defeat, failure and hopelessness. His chest, uncovered by his opened jacket, was covered in gray hair, yet he was cold to the touch. Blood like black pitch trickled off his mouth.

"Is he dead?" Glinda asked, feeling icy cold as she looked into his face, which seemed broken, bloodied and misshapen.

"_Ja_," Salia said sorrowfully. "He was one of our best warriors."

Glinda tried to look away from that face, cold and hopeless, broken and bloodied, but she could not force herself to look away. Yet with each moment she looked at it, she felt that she would never be happy again. There was nothing beautiful about it, no peace within his staring, unblinking eyes: she felt as though she was staring into the face of death itself, and within her soul something broke, something she knew would never be made well again.

Suddenly, there was a shout from the walls of the castle, which were quite high, settled upon a tall hill. Salia and Glinda ran up thither, trying not to trip over the bodies and blood all about here. There were several ladders placed upon the walls of the castle, and these the two women used to climb up to the top of the walls. Up here, upon the terrace of the castle, the stones were burned and blackened. The remains of some shriveled, broken creature that was so far from human that, disgusted with all the death she had seen, Glinda felt the strong desire to kick it off the walls of the castle, lay at the edge of the burned stones. In the midst of the terrace stood Siegfried and Hilde, along with Viola and several others, who stood upon what looked like a ruin of blackened rocks or perhaps ice stained black.

"What's this, _mein_ Herr?" Salia asked Siegfried.

"There's no time," he dismissed, turning instead to Glinda. "_Fräulein_ Glinda, I need you to stay here with _Fräulein_ Viola. Once _Fräulein_ Valentine arrives, it will be time for the ceremony."

"Wait, what?" Glinda asked, still recovering from the shock of what she had seen. "What are we doing?"

"Some evil has happened in this place," Siegfried said.

"What I saw in the glass?"

"It can't be, that would mean..." Siegfried shook his head. "Just stay here, wait until Valentine arrives." He then left with Hilde von Krone, leaving Glinda and Salia on the top of the cold, wind-swept terrace, staring out upon the desolation of warfare.

"Uh, Viola?" Glinda asked. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Zwei is dead," she said monotonously. "It is as I saw."

"Oh, you know," Glinda sighed. "So, what is this we're about to do?"

"_Monsieur_ Schtauffen believes we can use our power to see what took place in this castle," Viola said. "Perhaps he is right? I know not."

"But will we see what we need to?"

"Perhaps."

Glinda sighed, then sat down on the burned, blackened ground. She felt horribly dead and hopeless and tired and had a longing desire to just fall asleep and leave it all behind. Yet when she closed her eyes, the bodies of the dead came back to her mind and she knew that there would be no sleep. As she opened her eyes, looking down just before her feet, she saw, buried in the black soot and ash, something that shined pale-blue in the dim sunlight. Curiosity urged her to find it and see what it was: so she reached into the black ash and pulled forth a small stone of pale blue color, like her favorite bubble gown from her days as the Good Witch of the North. It was narrow, smooth and long like a pencil, and yet, though it felt like a stone, it was not cold. In fact, as she held it in her hands, she felt warmth and something else she feared that she was never going to feel again, something she felt that, after seeing the horrors of war, she was incapable of feeling ever again.

Hope.

* * *

**(AN: A lot happened between when I started writing this chapter and now. It's obviously getting darker, what with the explication of the horrors of the battlefield. No wonder it's rated T, but it might need to get a higher rating, I don't know. Postmortem pictures drain you of any hope or good feelings, and that's what Glinda pretty much saw among the battlefield: so many people dead and rotting. What happened here is canon, for ZWEI [or 'Two'] was slain in _SCV_.)  
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**(I've got something to finish up, though, from _Tira: A Tale of Torment_, which I overlooked in the first. I still have a story to tell, of course, but it's going to be longer than most of my _Ozian Adventures_ stories [I'm still considering combining all of the _Another World_... Lord of the Rings cross-overs into one big story, since they're so small].)  
**


	13. A Flash of Green

**(AN: I cut the last chapter short, so I've got to finish up that in this chapter, as well as the story that I had planned for this one. I'm not done with this story, not by a long shot, even though I'm broken in spirit due to college: this story _will_ get finished!)  
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* * *

**A Flash of Green  
**

It was at least three days before Isabella Valentine arrived at Denevér Castle from Prague. She came in a carriage, which stopped at the edge of the battlefield. With two or three of the Schwarzwind mercenaries aiding her, she left the carriage and made her way by foot up to the castle. At the top she came at last, where she found Siegfried and Hilde and Viola and young Glinda.

"Well, hello there!" Ivy said to Glinda cheekily. "It's been a long time, child."

"Uh, hello," Glinda replied. "But, if I may ask..."

"Yes?"

"Why are you so happy?" she asked. "People have died, the stench is still heavy in the air."

"What, that?" she gestured over the walls. "I have seen much worse things, naive little child. I have _done_ things that no human should ever do, even of the corrupted, evil folk that the men of the new learning call _malfested_."

Glinda shuddered at Ivy's words: what evils could possibly be worse than what she had seen in this field of slaughter? But Ivy said little else, she turned to Siegfried and walked towards him.

"I'm here, as you requested," she said. "Are they ready?"

"It matters not," Siegfried replied. "We've wasted too much time as it is, and this mistake of mine might prove to be the worst one ever. We must do what we can."

"And what is it that you think we can do?"

Siegfried turned them to all of them, Hilde, Ivy, Viola and Glinda, and addressed them all. "We have come to the place that _Fräulein_ Viola saw in her glass, but we must know what happened here. All we can see is slaughter and carnage, but some other things, dark and evil tidings, happened in this place that affect us all. We have three sorceresses here: _Fräulein_ Valentine, _Fräulein_ Viola and you, _Fräulein_ Glinda. You all possess the power of sight, therefore you three will look into the past, to see what had happened in this place.

"_Fräulein_ Valentine will lead you, for I have discussed the details of this ritual with her," he finished.

Ivy, or _Fräulein_ Valentine as Siegfried named her, ordered Viola and Glinda to paint a great circle upon the terrace. For paint they used something from Ivy's supplies in a small barrel, the color of fresh blood. After making the circle, Ivy drew three smaller circles upon the edge of the great circle, one towards the edge of the terrace that looked out over the battlefield and two on the sides that looked away, towards the keep of the castle. Once this was done, she began drawing lines between the three circles, interconnecting each one to each other, and after adding a few more symbols which Glinda had never seen before, Ivy walked towards the small circle at the edge of the terrace, then turned to Glinda.

"Your book, child." she ordered.

"My what?"

"You have a book with you," she said. "One of ancient power. Now is the time. Give it to me."

Glinda reached about herself, feeling only the staff tied to her back and the crystal ball and tiny piece of stone in her pocket. But then suddenly she found something else, lying at the bottom of her pocket. This had not been there before, and she wondered what it could be. Carefully, she removed the object from her pocket. Suddenly the object began to grow larger and heavier, though her pocket was still the same size. When at last it was out and in her hands, so heavy that she had to use both hands to hold it up, she gave a cry when she saw what she had in her hands.

"The Grimmerie!" she exclaimed. "B-But I...I didn't have this!"

"You obviously know very little about that book," Ivy stated.

"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Viola. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, child," Ivy said. "The ancient book of thaumaturgy and enchantments, as old as time itself and hidden in every legend and myth: _the_ Grimmerie."

"You know about this?" Glinda asked, clutching the book closer to her bosom.

"I found it once," Ivy stated. "And paid dearly for it. But now I see that you have it. Have you seen the black man in white, who wields the Reaper's scythe?"

"Uh..."

"Obviously not," Ivy chuckled with a condescending tone. "Consider yourself lucky. Now over with it, now."

Glinda didn't feel like giving the book to Ivy. She was still very wary of her, considering how she had first met her, and how she described the Grimmerie was _exactly_ how Madam Morrible described it in the Wizard's Throne Room: those memories came flashing suddenly back into her mind as Ivy spoke. Yet she just wanted to be done with this, this whole magical ritual and such and get to rest, or at least be gone from this place in search of Elphaba.

"Trust me," Ivy said. "I don't want it for my own power, just for this ritual."

Slowly and reluctantly, Glinda handed the book over to Ivy, whose eyes seemed to swell in surprise when the book was in her hands. She opened it up and began to thumb through the pages thoughtfully.

"Hmm," she began, aloud and yet more to herself. "The book is quite old, indeed, but there is more to this than when I first opened the book, or my memory is poor."

"Wait, you can read this?"

"I told you I could," Ivy said. "The book has a mind of its own and won't reveal all of its secrets on the first read, but the language is Latin and can be read by any idiot cleric, as I told you before."

She turned her back, still intently reading the book, then walked back to her circle, her hips swaying seductively from side to side with each step. Glinda thought it was rather ridiculous, what Ivy wore: an open jacket and skin-tight boots with nothing but a thong covering her nethers. The only armor she wore was on her right arm, going from the shoulder down to the hand, ending in a glove of steel.

"Here it is," Ivy said, kneeling down when she reached her circle, placing the book upon the ashes. She then rose to her full height, turning about to face Glinda and Viola. "This spell will allow us to witness what happened before in this place. Close your eyes, hold up your hands and repeat these words with me: _Mundi Video, Stellas Video, Omnia Video_."

Glinda shut her eyes so tight, shapeless figures swam within the darkness of her closed eyes. She held up her hands and began speaking the worlds in unison with Viola and Ivy, feeling rather foolish as well. She knew not these words, or what they meant, and she still believed herself to be rather weak in her magical abilities. The spell she had cast in Midgard had been a fluke, a one time chance where she tapped into powerful magic, splitting herself into four. She knew that she could never duplicate something of that power, and she feared that she was doing so this time.

"_Mundi Video_..." they said as one.

Suddenly, though her eyes were closed, she began to see tiny specks of white light, like a thousand stars, suddenly glowing. Her eyes had not opened, for it was still day in the world about her, which already seemed remote and faint. She was afraid, not knowing into what void she was about to step. Her eyes quivered, but she heard Ivy's commanding voice.

"Do not open your eyes until I give the word!"

"_Stellas Video..._"

The scent of death was starting to grow weak and the wind died down. She felt fearful, for suddenly she became aware of a dead silence, so great that she feared the sound of her own voice and that of the others. So deep and heavy was the silence that all other noise seemed loud, noisy, chaotic and harsh in her ears. She wanted to close her hands over her ears, but dared not. She feared also what would happen if she broke form.

"_Omnia Video..._"

"Open your eyes now, children!" Ivy shouted.

Fearfully, Glinda's eyes snapped open. But what she saw was greater and more fearful than anything she had ever imagined. All about her was the world as she had known it, the terrace of Denevér Castle. But it was not black or covered in ash. Beyond, she could see the battle in fervor, with distant, distorted voices crying in death and triumph. The sky, however, was not the sky as she knew it. There was nothing out there, only blackness surrounding a great black hole, blacker and darker than the darkness. Waves of violet light and pieces of living rock were floating in the sky above, flowing constantly into the void. About her, on the top of the terrace, she saw Viola and Ivy standing, looking about at this wonderful and terrible sight about her.

Before she could speak, she saw a figure, like a moving, quivering shadow, approach the edge of the terrace. She gave a cry, for the shadow was of 'Two', living and moving. Then another figure appeared, hideous and foul: if 'Two' had been a shadow, this thing was as dark as the darkness, deeper than the void, burning with fire and filling her eyes with terror. For a moment, 'Two' engaged the shadow in combat, turning from the shadow of a man into the shadow of a wolf in between blows. At last, 'Two' dealt the shadow a blow from which it could not recover. It crumbled to his feet, defeated and destroyed.

As he stood over the broken body of the beast, another shadow, darkling as the great one had been but lesser, appeared from behind and dealt 'Two' a blow in the back. He stumbled off the castle walls and fell into the shadows of war below. Glinda saw the shadow, and then another shadow appeared, darker and fiendish: this one was the one that delighted in causing suffering and torment. It turned and faced the weak shadow, which was surmounted with gold like fire, but between them stood a great sword, burning with the same fire and shadow that the beast had before it. She became suddenly aware of an eye within that sword, searching this way and that for something. The wicked shadow knelt down before the sword and caressed it as though it were a lover. Words were spoken, but they were distorted, as though heard from the depths of a dream, or beneath water or in a cave, and Glinda heard them not.

Suddenly, the weak shadow approached the stronger one, which then turned to her and spoke loud enough for Glinda to hear.

"It's your sword, take it." There was no doubt now. That voice belonged to Tira, the wicked prisoner that Siegfried had released. It seemed he had made a mistake then as well, and it was now the source of great mischief.

A tiny white light faded from off the weak shadow, falling to the ground and ceased to shine, then she took up the sword of darkness and the inferno lived again. The world began to shake and Glinda saw waves ripping out from where the shadows met.

"It's working!" exclaimed Tira's voice with glee. "It's reaching out to you, I was right! You are the only worthy heir of Soul Edge!"

The inferno ceased, and now the sword was diminished, but only in size. Now it seemed like a small yet still powerful hole into the void. The weak shadow cradled it and spoke to it like a crying child.

"You'll stay with me forever?" she sobbed, though her voice was distorted and evil. "You'll never betray me?"

Glinda saw Tira's shadow disappear. She had done her work, she had spilled enough blood, killed enough people, sacrificed enough, and now she would be alive to witness the coming of the burning shadow. But Glinda's gaze was drawn to the sword of evil in the weak shadow's hand. She could hear its voice, deep and menacing, though no words were clear. She knew that it would betray this little girl, just as it had betrayed the last host.

"I'll do it!" sobbed the child again. "I'll collect souls if you'll stay with me. I...I'll kill everyone and live with you!" She stood up, lifted the sword into the air and all at once, the world darkened as the void opened forth once again.

Glinda didn't know what to make of this. Why was this child, the weak shadow wielding the burning sword, seeking solace through the power of evil? She knew that this sword, that which Tira had called Soul Edge, must certainly be evil. Everything about it felt wrong and unnatural, even here in the void of her vision. It would betray her, leave her alone or, worse yet, kill her and eat her soul as well: so why was she seeking its "comfort?" Because she was alone? She herself, Glinda, had been alone: Oz knows she was alone before the Schwarzwind found her. It was hell, like nothing she had ever encountered, but she had survived. Could not this young girl? Why, then, did she put her trust in the powers of evil?

Just then, another weak shadow appeared, bearing with it a bright flame of brilliant light. It called out to her in the voice of a young man.

"Pyrrha!" the newcomer said. The young girl, whose name Glinda guessed was Pyrrha, turned in response.

"Patroklos?" she asked, sounding soft and innocent. Then her voice changed. "The sword hungers. It needs souls..._human_ souls!" With a weak effort, she slashed at the shadow, but he was too quick and she bent over half way, as though that effort alone had been too much for her to accomplish. She then arose, two red stars burning out of the midst of her quivering shadow, and in a soft, tender voice, she spoke these grim words.

"So, please, give me your soul."

She attacked again, but he pushed her back. Suddenly the inferno came to life again, and now she attacked him with new strength. For a brief moment, the shadows clashed and brother and sister were pitted against each other. It was just then that Glinda recognized the fighting style of the youth, the one named Patroklos. He had been the arrogant young warrior who had attacked her while she was leaving the Valentine mansion.

In one swift moment, he struck down his sister. Then he stood over her and, to Glinda's shock and surprise, the light in his hand faded and there was nothing left, only a shadow. Then he froze still, covered in pale blue crystals until he was a frozen block of crystal. Time seemed frozen, and then suddenly Pyrrha's shadow rose from where it had lain. Her red eyes gazed in horror at the block of crystal, then turned to the burning sword, to Soul Edge.

"I don't care what happens to me," she sobbed at it. "You can do whatever you want, but please, bring back Patroklos!"

Then, to Glinda's shock and horror, she saw Pyrrha, the weak little child's shadow, turn the burning blade of evil against the block of crystal, hacking away at it in vain. This went on for some time before the crystals finally cracked, leaving the brother and sister all alone atop the terrace. She knelt at his side, with his head in her lap, and stroked his hair. He suddenly woke again, and they shared words so faint and whispered that she could not make them out.

Suddenly, she saw them take the cursed, evil sword together, hand in hand, and walked before the last bit of the shining white light. There it sat, aside Patroklos, when he emerged again from the crystal. Together, they stabbed the light with the darkening shadow of flame. A sudden inferno, whirlwinds of fire, erupted from where the sword had been driven. Glinda could feel the two powers struggling against each other, and then suddenly the flames spread outward. Everything was burned, save for those who held onto the sword.

When at last the fire cleared, Glinda saw the terrace of Denevér Castle as she had seen it when she first arrived here. It had been destroyed, burned with fire. In the midst of the black ash stood Pyrrha and Patroklos, the burning sword a dying ember at their feet. The light was gone. Even though the sun lived and was in the sky in their world, it was being covered by shadows so thick, they reminded Glinda of the shadows of Mordor. In the gathering dark, brother and sister embraced, but she was still a shadow, and Glinda could sense that something was wrong with that shadow, for the two spots of glowing red light did not fade. Hand in hand, they turned their backs on the sword of evil, the sword with which they had destroyed the light.

* * *

"So it was true," Ivy said, her voice devoid of hope. "Soul Calibur really is gone."

"Soul what?" Glinda asked abruptly.

"The spirit sword," she said, her voice deep and husky with emotion she tried in spades to contain. "The light you saw, the one those two destroyed with Soul Edge. It's over now, it's all over." For a moment she paused, turning her head away from them. Glinda thought she heard sniffling, but at that moment, Viola approached Glinda.

"It's time to go," she said. "We have to tell _Monsieur_ Siegfried the bad news."

_Redeo a Mundi_. Viola began. Reluctantly at first, Ivy and Glinda began to repeat this refrain, until the void about them started to collapse. Within moments, Glinda knew that they would be back among the world of the living, the world she knew as the real world. Already, the vision seemed like nothing more than a sea of colors, the violets of the sky, the dull browns of the earth, the red of Soul Edge.

"No, wait!" she cried out suddenly. "No! Take me back!"

Moments later, she found herself lying in the ashes, her dress stained and her hands blackened. She was once again in the waking world. Siegfried and Hilde von Krone stood by, waiting to hear what had happened. When they heard Glinda's cries, Siegfried ordered Salia to detain her while he listened to the reports from Viola and Ivy.

"No, no, please! I need to see it again!"

"What's wrong?" Salia asked Glinda. "What did you see?"

"It was there," she gasped. "It was right there. Why couldn't they see it? They thought they would destroy them both, but it only destroyed the Soul Calibur sword. It's still at large."

"Yes," Salia nodded. "That is most unfortunate."

"No, no, it's worse!" Glinda replied, her voice rising to hysterical tones. "I saw something, just as we were leaving. It's what I've been searching for, but...oh, what could have driven her to do that!"

"What did you see, Glinda?"

"I saw her again! There was a flash of green, it passed over the flash of red just before the vision ended. Elphie's alive, and Soul Edge is with her."

* * *

**(AN: Finally got that chapter done! Now we've shuffled off the mortal coil of _Soul Calibur V_ and can tell the rest of the story, which will be from my brain. What you will see in the next several chapters is the unhappy aftermath of _SCV_. And, as you will see, Glinda has a part to play in this story.)  
**


	14. Murder of Conscience

**(AN: Hearkening back to _Another Journey_, we see another cut-away and another of what happened with...well, you'll see.)  
**

* * *

**Murder of Conscience**

Her eyes, brown with flecks of gray, opened upon the void, the world of light and darkness and living rock, the astral plane of Chaos. She had never been here before, and yet it was not wholly alien to her. She had walked more or less in this world every time she crossed over: from Oz to Middle Earth, from Middle Earth to the cross-roads of the Custodian, from there to Midgard and so on. Even when it had been very brief, she had seen this world as a flash of violet and darkness in the barriers of each world.

She tried to remember all that had happened up until she appeared here in. She remembered being attacked, then trailing Dorothy, the one who called herself Pyrrha, for some time until she came to the battlefield. There she saw what happened between brother and sister, and came to the realization that she was never Dorothy to begin with. She saw them destroy the sword, then walk away from the other one. The last thing she recalled was a burning blade and an eye, like the Eye in the Ring, looking out from the midst of the burning shadow. Then she was here.

And she was not alone.

One by one, she saw the figures of those she had known in times past appear before her. There was the old Goat, hands and feet bound in irons, a forlorn look upon his shaggy, bearded face. There was the young woman with reddish-brown hair, clad in black, now standing up on her two feet. Then there appeared another figure, one which she had only seen briefly in her nightmares ever since Midgard. She knew the face: pale and fair, save for hideous red blotches here and there, like someone had poured drops of fire slowly onto his face. His hair was black as night, and a wicked gleam was in his eyes.

"Well done," he said. "I'm very impressed. You've turned your back on your friends and family and taken up the Sword of Heroes."

"He's lying!" the woman said.

"We're still here," the Goat added. "That means you haven't turned your back on us."

"What is this?" she snarled.

"Elphaba, don't you know us?" the younger woman asked. "It's me, it's Nessarose."

"But you're not dead," she replied.

"No, I'm not," she returned. "But we're bound by blood. Wherever we are, you will always carry a part of me with you."

"I've had enough of this sentimental bulls..."

"Yes, that's right," the tall, dark-haired man said in a deceptively sweet voice. "Who need her? She's alive again, she's got her legs. You have no responsibility to her anymore. You have no responsibilities."

"What about to the weak, the hopeless, the innocent who have been treated with injustice?" the Goat asked.

"Oh, she never cared about you."

"Let Elphaba speak!"

"He's right," she replied. "I never cared about the Animals. I knew that if people accepted the Animals back into society, there'd be nothing left to stop them from accepting me. You all were just a means to an end."

"Ha ha ha ha, that's right, you old goat!" sneered the dark-haired man. "You have no power here anymore, so piss off!"

Slowly, the image of the Goat bent even lower, then vanished all together. The red-haired woman was livid.

"Elphaba!" she shouted. "How could you say such things! The Animals have been your life's work since the beginning!"

"Of course, because she just wanted everyone to love her, didn't you?" he turned to Elphaba and mocked a pout. "Oh, poor me, nobody loves me, nobody understands me, so I'm just gonna be mean to everyone so they'll all look at me."

"Shut up..." Elphaba panted.

"Admit it, you were weak!"

"Shut up..."

"You've always been weak, and you'll always be weak..."

"_Shut up!_" In one quick motion, Elphaba reached out and grabbed the half-giant by the throat.

"No, stop! What are you doing?"

"Do you think I care about you?" she asked him. "Do you think I care about your fake gods or your end of days? Do you think I want to become your slave and use the Sword to free you?" With her other hand, she thrust inward into the bowels of the giant.

"Does it hurt?" she sneered, then removed her hand and watched him disappear into a pool of black blood that melted away. She then turned her eyes to the red-haired young woman.

"Elphaba, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done long ago," she replied. "Get rid of you!"

"Elphaba, just listen to me!" the image of Nessarose held up her hands. "You're not well. It's the Sword! It's affecting your mind, you wouldn't do this normally."

"Would I?" Elphaba roared. "For nineteen years, I've had to look after you, clean up after you, hold your hand because you're too weak. All the while you shoved it in my face that Father loved _you_ over me, that you were his favorite. Well, Father's dead, Mother's dead, thanks to _you!_ Yes, that's right. I didn't kill Mother, _you_ did!"

"Don't say that!" Nessarose cried.

"Shut up with the tears, b*tch! Nobody cares if you're hurting or not because nobody loves you, _nobody!_ Boq didn't love you, Glinda used you, Father only loved you to spite me..."

An emerald hand, covered in black blood seized Nessarose by the throat while another one, hideously engorged and deformed, with huge claws and knobby, spiky growths upon it, impaled itself like a grim torture device into her stomach.

"And I don't love you either!"

As the body of Nessarose faded, Elphaba saw that the void faded around her, until she was back in the world as she knew it. They were all gone: Nessarose, Dr. Dillamond and Loki, the manifestations of her own consciousness. There would be nothing more to stop her now, no limitations, fears or faiths to keep her from doing whatever she wanted to do. It didn't matter anymore that she had only cared about herself in the past. There were no more maxims, no more laws or rules that said what was right and what was wrong. All there was was power, and she had enough power that whatever she said or did would be so.

She looked down at her right hand, hideously deformed where it had gripped the hilt of the blade. It's eye, the fiery inferno, the gate into its own void of endless hunger, looked back up at her.

* * *

**(AN: Well, it had already been said more or less, so why not? Don't worry, more story to come in the next chapters.)**

**(Tumblr is where fandoms go to die. I know, many of you readers probably have a tumblr and would be offended at that remark, but seriously, tumblr might have given my love of _Wicked_ a fatal wound from which it is still trying to recover [perhaps in vain]. Obviously, I decided to get rid of the poisoned blood of Hvergelmir [Loki's black blood from _The Land_] so that Elphaba's actions are her own. The exchange with Nessarose was mostly for you, readers, because it seems that I'm the only one who likes Nessarose, so I thought you'd love to see Elphaba tear apart your most-hated character)  
**

**(Also, yes, the dark-haired guy is Loki. Please, please, PLEASE, for the life of me, do NOT, I repeat, _DO NOT ENVISION LOKI AS TOM HIDDLESTON FROM THE AVENGERS MOVIE! _I think he looks like Data from _Star Trek The Next Generation_, and I think that his interpretation of Loki was horrible. The Loki of Norse mythology is more like the Joker from _The Dark Knight_: a harbinger of chaos who does bad things just for the fun of it. The one in _The Avengers_ movie is a whiny, angsty little...well, I think you can get the picture. Sorry for the rant, but I'm sick of _Avengers_ Loki.)  
**


	15. The Visitor

**(AN: You'll notice I've deleted a story from my list. I had originally vowed off that, but I lost all interest in _Star Trek: Conflict_ and nobody liked it or were reading it, so why bother anymore? I feel that way about this story as well, but I've got to finish this story. Because what happens is significant to another story which I am about to undergo, also based on _Soul Calibur_ lore.)  
**

**(I've often thought about nominating a successor to carry on the _Ozian Adventures_ after this or the next story after this one is completed. But _LittleGreenFae_, who originally wrote the idea for _Another World, Another War_, has not been doing much lately [wherever you are, my little Wicked vikingess, I miss you and your reviews!]. If any of you are interested in carrying on the _Ozian Adventures_, please send me a PM and we'll start discussing. I had so much planned for the future, but seem to have lost the desire, or perhaps tolerance for Elphaba's self-centeredness, to continue [and yes, she can be a bit self-centered, she even said so herself in "No Good Deed", as I think I've said over and over by now]. Anywho, if anyone is interested in continuing [once this story is finished, of course], please do not hesitate to stand forth!)  
**

**(Until such time as that, I shall finish this story and give you a new chapter!)  
**

* * *

**The Visitor**

Moments had passed since Glinda saw the horrible vision, and she had seemingly been forgotten. She crouched among the ashes all alone, fearful of what had befallen her beloved Elphie, upon the terrace where she had seen the vision with the others. They were gone now: Viola went to find 'Two's' body and give it a proper burial and Ivy went back to her carriage, refusing to speak to anyone after what she had seen.

"Hello there," a voice said. She looked up and saw Salia Olschmidt, kneeling before Glinda. In her hand was a short sword: its guard was wide and V-shaped, with the points aimed away from the hilt. Upon the fuller an inscription was written in a tongue of which Glinda could not understand.

"I'm sorry for what's happened," Salia said. "If there were anything we could do."

"No," Glinda shook her head. What she had seen was beyond belief. If Elphaba were still out there, she had Soul Edge. But what could she do against something of which she knew almost nothing?

"I would that Siegfried or Ivy were not so busy," Salia stated. "They know more about the ordeal between Soul Calibur and Soul Edge than I do. If they weren't..."

Salia sighed, dropping the sword in the ash and walking away. Glinda got up, eager to see if Ivy was willing to tell her about the Swords. But as she was preparing to leave, she knelt down and picked up the blade that Salia had dropped. For some reason, she felt the desire to reach into the pocket of her dress and pull out the blue stone she had found among the ruin. But she suddenly realized how silly that was: this was just a sword and all she had was a stone. Dismissing this notion, she left the walls of the castle.

When she came to the grounds before the castle, she saw that the Schwarzwind were busy gathering the dead and burying them together. The creatures that had been corrupted by Soul Edge were burned where they lay. Already, however, the heavy stench of death was starting to fade and she breathed easier as she made her way out of the battlefield. Thither she saw the carriage of Lady Valentine, whose doors were closed and no one attending it. Up to its doors she walked and knocked on it once.

"Who goes there?" Ivy's voice called from behind the door. "I shall not speak with you."

"Please, uh, Miss Valentine?" Glinda asked. "I need your help."

"Ha! My help?" mocked Ivy. "Go bother _Herr_ Schtauffen."

"He's busy," Glinda said. "I haven't been able to..."

Just then, the door of the carriage was thrust open. Out of the doorway the face of Ivy loomed. Aside from her breasts and her revealing clothing, which were always the first things one noticed when they looked at Ivy, Glinda saw that Ivy's eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been weeping.

"Ivy, what's-what's wrong?"

"Piss off already," Ivy sighed.

"That's no way to talk to someone who's trying to be nice to you!" exclaimed Glinda.

"You're so naive," Ivy returned. "Your pity is wasted."

"No, please! Tell me what's wro..."

"Just shut up and get in here." Ivy sighed, then stepped back. When Glinda did not immediately follow, she poked her white head back out of the doorway. "Are you coming or not?"

Reluctantly, Glinda walked into the cramped compartment of the carriage and sat down opposite Ivy. Glinda noted that Ivy kept her gaze averted from Glinda's eyes, so that their eyes never met.

"What do you know about Soul Edge?" she asked.

"Not very much," Glinda shook her head. "It's all been very confusing, and I've not received a straight answer."

"Perhaps there can be _no_ straight answer, as you say," Ivy began. "But what is known is that Soul Edge is evil. It devours souls and dominates others to its will."

"You speak of it as though it were alive."

"It is," Ivy nodded. "If it is not stopped, it will corrupt or destroy everything on earth until there is nothing left but a wasteland, a lifeless world slowly dying under eternal shadows."

Glinda felt cold as Ivy spoke. "Is there anything we can do about it?"

"Soul Calibur was our last hope," Ivy said. "It was the Sword made to combat Soul Edge, but now that it is gone..." She sighed again, one hand covering her face for a moment. "There is no hope."

"But why does that..." Glinda began, but was cut off by a sharp look from Ivy. She immediately knew that she had misspoken, but she could not guess how.

"You know little indeed," Ivy returned. "I..." She choked back a sob. "I was _personally_ corrupted...no, I _allowed_ myself to be used by the Sword. I am cursed: forever young, forever hungry for death, forever denied. Soul Calibur was my only hope of salvation, but now..."

"I'm sorry," Glinda sympathized.

"Your pity is needless," she scorned in reply.

Glinda was left stunned and silent, with no words to respond to what Ivy said: although she got the distinct and profound impression that this was the first time Ivy had ever allowed herself to show sorrow in front of anyone. It made her sad as well: for her part, she hadn't had much reason to be sad and when she did, except for one time or another, Elphaba had been there to comfort her. But to have no one at all...

A knock resounded on the door of the carriage.

"Go away!" Ivy shouted.

"_Fräulein _Glinda is needed by _Herr_ Schtauffen," the voice said. Glinda leaned over and opened the door, seeing one of the _Schwarzwind_ standing there to greet her.

"_Her _Schtauffen wants to speak with you immediately," he repeated.

* * *

The field of battle, or what it had once been, was now well on its way to being cleared of the dead. But Glinda had little time to ponder on this, for the one who led her back to Denevér Castle moved with haste. For, he said, _Herr _Schtauffen was in haste and therefore they had no time to waste. They talked little, for he knew nothing of Oz or the places she had been and it made little difference to her whether _Fräulein_ Von Krone had arrived or not.

To her surprise, they went not onto the battlements of the castle, but to a small tent that had been erected at the foot of the castle, guarded by several of the soldiers bearing the crest of the crowned wolf upon their tabards and banners. The young soldier stood at attention and presented Glinda to the guards, who then opened the tent-flaps and allowed her passage. Inside the tent, which was dimly lit by a candle or two, there sat Siegfried and Hilde, both of them out of their armor. With them was an old man, dressed in white from the waist down but wearing no shirt. His body, unlike others of advanced age, still bore the shape and vigor of youth.

"Here she is, Master," Siegfried said to the old man, gesturing to Glinda. The old man did not rise from his feet, but gently stroked his long, white beard.

"So this is the young sorceress who saw the fate of the two swords?" the old man asked.

"_Ja_, Master." Siegfried replied. "Her name is _Fräulein _Glinda."

"Well met," the old man nodded.

"Same to you," Glinda returned, gladdened by his warm, inviting yet strong voice. "And what's your name, sir?"

"I am the Master of the Art of the Sword," he said. "In the east I am known as _Jiàn Dàshī_, the Edge Master. But you may call me Master."

"Kind of proud of yourself, aren't you?" Glinda sudden stated.

"And why not?" he began. Glinda noted that he didn't sound offended, so much as surprised by her statement. "I have lived much longer than any of you and learned things known to no other man or woman under Heaven."

"He is here to help us," Siegfried said.

"Us?"

"Yes," the old man replied. "If I may be so bold, young lady, I would hear your story, from beginning to end."

"_My_ story?" Glinda asked.

"Of course _your_ story," he returned. "Why not?"

"Well, uh, don't you wanna hear about the vision I had?"

"I know of the vision from what Siegfried heard from Lady Valentine and what Lady Viola told me afterward." he said. "But I want to hear your part in the tale of things. Please, now, start from the beginning and leave nothing out."

He lighted off his seat and then sat cross-legged on a rug that had been placed on the ground under the tent, offering his seat to Glinda. She sat down there, among the two knights and the old man, and thus began her story.

* * *

**(AN: Originally had other things planned, would have been too much like other things, blah blah blah. You don't wanna hear that.)**

**(Unfortunately, I cannot say when my next update will be. College life is indeed very difficult and I have no heart for writing in what time I have free _for_ writing. As you can obviously see, some of the depression has seeped into and affected the darkness of the story's tone. I'll try to remedy that, though I'm still debating over an ending. It can go either way, happy or sad, but which way will be more benefiting for our character development, specifically for Glinda?)**

**(Leave any request/suggestions/ideas/reviews/anything in the review section below. Seriously, I work harder at these stories when I know someone is actually reading them.)**


	16. The Dream

**(AN: My spirits have improved slightly as I sit down to write this chapter: let's hope they stay that way all the way to the end. Also, while the majority of you doubtless are still shipping Gelphie, this story's canon ship is Fiyeraba. Even if the author himself negated/contradicted himself by writing Fiyeraba into his story and then saying that Gelphie is canon, "I will go down with this ship" [Fiyeraba].)**

**(Lol, don't sue me _Dido_. [ahem] So, in light of that, and because of some rather silly things which I wrote in my adaption of _Another World Another War_, [simply entitled: "_Another World_"], I've decided to elaborate on some things that were featured therein. Once again I remind you that any characters, situations or references to events in _Lord of the Rings_ are owned by JRR Tolkien and not myself or NAMCO.)**

**(Thank you once again, _Bubble_, for your dedicated reviews. In my canon, Edge Master is kind, but conceited? Lol, he's actually very old and very knowledgeable, in more things than the art of the sword. Hopefully you'll get to see that in this chapter.)  
**

* * *

**The Dream**

When the Edge Master told Glinda that he wanted to hear her story "from the beginning", he indeed meant from the beginning. Starting with her childhood in the Upper Uplands of Gilikin, she plowed through her personal history. Everything was told: her days at dear old Shiz, her time as the public face of the Wizard' regime and "ambassador for goodness", her journeys and trials through Middle-Earth and Midgard, the spell, Maaptia, and her decision to follow Elphaba into this world. The Edge Master was a very good listener: he did not interrupt her or attempt to "correct" her, but instead listened intently to what was being said, stroking his beard in deep thought every now and then.

"Interesting," the Edge Master said once she was done. "It has been a long time since I've witnessed such friendship. You were willing to risk your comfort, even your own life, for your friend."

"It's not about me, Master," Glinda replied. "Elphaba is the one who's in danger."

"Indeed, and that is why you must join us." the Edge Master stated plainly.

"Join you?"

"I still think it is a bad idea," Siegfried shook his head. "She has little training and would be more of a hindrance in a fight. Besides, we seek to destroy Soul Edge."

"What's this all about?" Glinda asked.

"When I first arrived in the camp," the Edge Master began, taking no notice of Siegfried's protests. "Young Siegfried told me about the situation. It was a very grievous blow, to say the least, when I heard that Soul Calibur had been destroyed. All who have ever destroyed Soul Edge without its power are now dead, and its power alone is the only thing that can stop Soul Edge from destroying all life in the world." Glinda gasped.

"No need to fear, young lady. We shall stop it. I have discussed things with Siegfried and he has agreed that it must be stopped as well."

"But not by the force of an army," Siegfried interrupted.

"Why not?" Glinda asked.

"I was once the wielder of Soul Edge," Siegfried said hesitantly. "I slaughtered whole armies all on my own. In the hands of someone powerful, it could be just as great a threat. No, our best hope is in secrecy."

"My friend at least must go," the Edge Master said. "If what you said is true, then the young Greek child will be trying to regain the Sword against her will. Only a familiar hand could save her. Perhaps she could help persuade her brother as well."

"But she will need an escort," Siegfried said. "Strong warriors who will be able to face Soul Edge when the time comes."

"That is why I will go," Hilde, who had remained silent throughout this whole ordeal, suddenly spoke. "I have battle training, and as much right to face Soul Edge as any of you."

"You're also a leader in your own right," Siegfried stated. "We can't afford to lose you."

"That's why I won't go alone," she replied. "That young Spaniard will go as well."

"I don't trust Ignacio," Siegfried said. "He's too deeply connected to _others_ who have sought Soul Edge as well."

"But he is a peerless warrior!"

"So why do you need me?" Glinda asked.

"You were my suggestion," the Edge Master said. "While listening to your story, I realized how close you were with the one you called Elphaba. If your story is true, and she is indeed the new host, then you at least must go as well. She will need your help."

Glinda lit up as he said these words. She rose from where she sat and made as though she would hug him. For a moment she thought about it, then she knelt down and bowed deeply.

"I can't thank you enough!" she exclaimed. "This is what I've been meaning to do since I came here! I felt like I've done absolutely nothing, and now I'm going in search of Elphie!" She squealed with joy. Finally there was a silver lining at the edge of what had appeared to be a long day of endless clouds. She looked for a moment at Siegfried and Hilde von Krone, both of them with stern, serious looks on their faces, then turned back to the Edge Master.

"But _Herr_...uh, Siegfried, is right." she said glumly. "I don't know anything about fighting or swordplay."

"That's why I'm going with you." the old man said with a smile and a wink. "But you mustn't trouble yourself with the cares of the morrow. Tonight, you shall sleep, for tomorrow, your quest shall begin."

With that, Glinda was dismissed.

* * *

She made her way to the camp-fires, which had been set up in the cleanest parts of the battlefield: that is to say, those no longer swimming in blood and gore. Glinda found a place near the fire to rest and she snuggled down, wrapping herself in the cloak she had been using as a pillow since the march. She could barely sleep, for she felt elated: happier than she had felt since she first came to this place. What had seemed like a pointless, endless and fruitless venture was now going to have a much happier ending. She gave little thought to what lay ahead, for that was still uncertain. Yet she knew that, come morning light, she would be on Elphaba's trail once again.

When at last sleep forced itself upon her eyes, she felt oddly cool yet warm as well. The warmth seemed to emanate from the earth, not the fire. In fact, the cold was coming from the fire, as if it were dead or had no power withal to warm her. But she could not ponder such things, for her thoughts were getting sluggish with drowsiness and she soon was lost in slumber.

Suddenly, with a gasp, she awoke. She found herself alone, in a room of cool, black stone. The room was bare of any furniture, save for a throne of black stone which sat at the opposite end of the room. It was circular, with four doors which now were closed. In the center of the room was a dais, upon which sat a small blue-ish black stone. Looking down at herself, she saw that she was clad in blue, the same pale blue dress she had worn through her travels through Middle-Earth.

Her eyes immediately found the next thing in the room that was not black: the figure of a tall, old man, robed all in white. He was sitting on the throne on the opposite side of the room. For a moment, Glinda wanted to cry out to the figure, but her tongue was swollen inside her mouth. She recognized this room, though she knew she had never been here before.

She recognized it from a dream she had dreamed upon the lawn of Parth Galen.

"Where is this?" she asked.

"The Tower of Orthanc," the old man said. His voice was deep, yet soft and beautiful. Just listening to it was like drinking in wine that made Glinda's head light, yet filled her with a desire to hear more, to simply bask in its beauty.

"Why am I here?" she asked.

"You know why," the voice pressed, though still gently enough that the spell of his voice was not wholly broken. "You were among their number."

She did not speak, as she was remembering the things that had gone on the last time she had this dream, and all that had happened in the time between.

"You're not real," she said, gesturing to the old man. "I know who you are. You're dead."

"Am I indeed?" the voice asked, laughing. That laugh was cold and sinister, despite the spell of the voice. "Nay, but I entered the mind of your friend, the _calenwen_. Am I not alive, therefore, in that I have been brought forth out of her memory and into yours?"

"B-But you can't be alive!" Glinda sobbed. "Gandalf said you were dead."

"Gandalf!" the old man cried, his voice now rising in wrath. "Gandalf is a fool, but I am not. Tell me now: where is the Ring?"

"It's gone," she said. "Destroyed."

"You lie!" he shouted. He rose from his seat, a black staff in his hand and began walking towards her. Suddenly the room was flooded with white light. As though that alone had power over this dream, the light dispelled the old man and the dark room of the tower.

In its place, Glinda found herself in a cloud, but all was light and beauty. It was a welcome change from the fear and darkness of the previous scene, yet it was strangely confusing.

"Glinda..." a familiar voice said.

Looking around, she saw the face of one she had missed for so long. Her heart leaped within her so much, it was nigh on to bursting. For there, floating but a few inches off the white marble floor, was Elphaba. She was clad in white, and her skin was pale, as it had been in Midgard during their first adventure there, but there was no mistaking the raven-black hair, the high cheek-bones, the angles of her face, and the depths of her silver-flecked chocolate eyes.

"Elphie..." she said, and her voice was soft and airy, like a sigh.

"Glinda, listen to me." Elphaba said. "Horrible things are about to happen."

"No, no, Elphie! Don't say that!"

"I will be in great danger," Elphaba continued. "But whatever happens, you must not give up."

"No, I'd...I'd never..."

"Promise me, Glinda," her friend said. "Promise me you'll never give up."

"I promise!"

"You remember what you saw in the Mirror?"

"Yes."

"Will you do all within your power to prevent that from happening?"

"Oh, yes, Elphie! I will!"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, Elphie! Anything you say!"

Suddenly, a strong hand pulled her back out of your consciousness. Glinda saw that morning had come, and there, standing over her, was Salia. An odd look was on her face, as though she had just accidentally lightened upon a grave and scandalous secret.

"_F-Fräulein_ Glinda!" she gasped, her hand falling dramatically over her armored chest. "I didn't know it was like _that_."

"Like what?"

"Like...oh, I dare not even speak of it!" she blushed.

"What? No!" she laughed. "It's not what you think it is."

"But I heard you calling out her name."

"Was I?"

"As though unto a lover."

"I _was_?" Glinda made a face, which sent giggles pouring from Salia.

"People have thought that way before," Glinda said. "Though I don't know why. Two men can be the best of friends and nobody thinks they're lovers."

* * *

**(AN: And on that note, with many unanswered questions ahead, we end this chapter!)**

**(Yay, I ended it with enthusiasm, hope and happiness. I also got to explain a little of Glinda's "dream" from _Another World_. Originally it was gelphie sub-text, but then, since the original author, _LittleGreenFae_, reminded me that her pairing was Fiyeraba, I got embarrassed and wrote that out. Instead, she sees a kind of oracle of Elphaba. The first part, also, came from her mind. During the process of my adaptation of _Another World Another War_, I had much discourse with _LGF_ and she told me that she had intended to have Glinda captured by Saruman and taken to Orthanc, rather than go with the Three Hunters, as I had in my story. Here is my nod to her idea, where it is a dream sequence...of sorts.)  
**

**(If any of you _Wicked_ fans reading this who have played _Soul Calibur V_, you might get what I was going with in that chapter. However, for the sake of the story, I shan't explain it here and now. I will do that in the chapter after the next one, once Glinda becomes "aware".)  
**


	17. Departure

**(AN: Okay, so this part of the story starts to feel like _Lord of the Rings_. However, it is a semi-platform to promote a _Soul Calibur_ OC who will appear in a story of his own sometime in the future. Also, seeing the past several chapters and what happened therein, it didn't seem like a good idea to send Glinda off on her own.)  
**

* * *

**Departure**

Regardless of how Salia felt about what she overheard from Glinda's dream, there was little time to discuss it. The camp was still dead asleep, the sun was not even fully out yet, but Salia told Glinda that she specifically was being asked to arise. She rose up, rubbed the slumber out of her eyes, and followed Salia outside of the camp. In the distance, the blue glow of early morning hovered about the tops of the hills. At the outside of the camp, she found the old Edge Master standing there, a broadsword in his hands, and three others stood here. One she recognized as Hildegard von Krone, but the other two were new to her.

"There you are," the Edge Master greeted Glinda as she approached. "My apologies for the early start, but we must be away. I fear there has already been too much delay as it is."

"I agree." Glinda nodded.

She was then introduced to the others. There was a young woman who looked about her age, though a few inches taller and not as 'well-endowed.' She wore long boots and a blue jacket, all of which looked old and filthy from much travel. Her hair was blond like hers and, at the moment, quite messy.

"This is Cassandra," the Edge Master introduced. "Her sister was the mother of Pyrrha and Patroklos. I spoke of her last night: I found her in the northern wastes and brought her here in the hopes that she could help persuade her nephew and niece to see reason."

The other one was a man, tall and strongly built. He was clad in plate armor and had a tall shield upon his back. He did not say a word, but bowed when Glinda appeared, to which she curtseyed with a smile. This man, at least, was raised among high society, like herself, and knew how to behave himself.

"This gentleman is Ignacio de Castille," the old man said. "He joined Siegfried's mercenaries five months prior, and has been hunting the two swords longer."

"_Bon dia, senyora_." the armored man said with a nod of his head.

Glinda smiled back at him, but her smile faded under a swift glance from Hilde.

"This is a serious mission," she stated. "We're hunting Soul Edge, with no weapon capable of destroying it..." She then looked Glinda up and down. "...and with a young woman with no battle training."

"Give her time," the Edge Master said. "I will be there to help you along the way, young lady. The same goes for all of you."

Without any other word, they set out from the camp. They had some supplies among them, procured by Edge Master for the journey. The others carried most of it, leaving Glinda with nothing to carry and making her feel quite unhelpful. As they started walking, she saw the young woman Cassandra walking alongside Hilde, while the Edge Master and Ignacio walked by themselves at the rear and vanguard respectively.

* * *

They walked in relative silence for many hours, until the sight of Denevér Castle was little more than a black speck upon the hills in the distance. Thus far, the only conversation among their group was between Cassandra and Hilde. They, apparently, were fast friends and had not seen each other for many years. Therefore, as was the custom for fast friends long divided by a span of years, they talked among themselves about what had happened in the mean-time. Or, as it should accurately be put, Cassandra talked on while Hilde tried to remain patient.

Glinda had little to say, for, though she was starting to get some idea of what the Swords were and what they meant, she had little connection with these people. She had seen very little of Hilde von Krone since she herself unofficially joined the _Schwarzwind_, and Cassandra was still new to her. While listening to their talk, she guessed that their friendship was similar in many respects to that of Elphaba and herself. For one thing, Hilde was very emotionally restrained and used thought, honor and duty as her weapons as well as her sword and spear. Though she was not as brainy as Elphaba, Glinda guessed that they had more in common than one could see on the surface. In contrast, Glinda could see that Cassandra was everything she herself had been: perky, energetic, feminine and sometimes a little tough. She even wore pink ribbons on her clothes, which Glinda approved of tremendously. Seeing the two of them together, laughing and sharing the adventures of their past together, made Glinda feel all the sadder. For she was detached from Elphaba, the one with whom she had shared so many adventures as well.

_Will I ever find you again, Elphie?_ she asked in silence, not uttering a word but hardly sparing the tears that fell softly from her face.

Her sorrow was halted for a time, along with their march. For the armored warrior Ignacio, chancing to cast his eyes behind them, saw a company of men approaching them swiftly. Therefore he called for a halt, and they turned to see who it was. Hilde kept her hand upon the hilt of her sword, but the Edge Master forebode her.

"My eyes may be old," he said. "But they are as keen now as they were a millennium or two ago. Those newcomers are from the _Schwarzwind_ camp. I don't think we'll have any need of weapons."

And so it was to be. In but ten minutes, the newcomers were so close that even Glinda could see them. She saw that they were the Eastern people, those who kept to themselves and with whom she had not yet been introduced. She now saw them again: a tall man in white with his jacket opened, a scruffy, unkempt impish little boy who balanced himself on the top of a tall, red staff, and two young women. One seemed to alternate between bouncing on one foot and standing still on one: she had hair the likes of which Glinda had never seen and though she spoke the same language as the others, she had blond hair and her skin was fair like her own. The other woman wore a dress embroidered with many beautiful colors and picturesque images, but she kept her face down and looked so out of place among the _Schwarzwind_. Now, when they had approached them, the man at the head of the group called out to them.

"_Sensei_," he said, speaking to the Edge Master. "It took us a while to find you."

"What brings you out this way, Maxi?" the Edge Master asked. "If you are returning to your home, this is not the way."

"Personally, I would like to go home, _sensei_," the one called Maxi said. "But these young ones were determined to come with you."

"We are undertaking a serious mission," Hilde said. "We cannot have children following on behind us."

The unkempt boy scurried up to Maxi and spoke to him in a language Glinda could not guess. Maxi, being the only one who could speak a language understood by them all, then translated.

"Xiba says that they know the danger ahead," Maxi said. "He says that they are all willing to come with you and to share in your adventures." He turned back to the young boy, Xiba, who nodded vigorously. Maxi sighed, then turned back to the others.

"And...share in your food."

"We have little enough for ourselves," Hilde said. "We travel very light, for our purpose demands haste."

"Excuse me," the one called Ignacio spoke up. "His voice was deep and purposeful. Glinda assumed that he was not one who wasted words when he did speak. "I agree with Madam Von Krone, and should add that these children are not ready for what awaits them upon our road."

"That's why they have me," Maxi said. "They would have left sooner had they not spent their time trying to convince me to go with them."

"So you're their protector?" Cassandra asked.

"_Hai_," Maxi replied. "I'm a veteran of many battles and have had personal experience with the servants of Soul Edge. If you don't want to take them along, at least take me. I can be of use."

"I agree," Cassandra stated. "Let them come along if they wish."

"I think it is a waste of time." Hilde stated.

"I agree." Ignacio returned.

"And what do you say, young Glinda?" the Edge Master queried. All eyes now turned to Glinda, who suddenly found herself in the center of unwanted attention.

"Whatever they want," she sighed. "My vote hardly matters."

"On the contrary," the Edge Master said. "You're one of us, anything you have to say matters to the group."

"Well," she stammered hesitantly. "I mean, strength in numbers, right?"

"But we're going straight into the heart of danger," Ignacio said. "And any more would just mean more baggage to carry."

"Still," Glinda said, feeling strangely confident. "I think they should come with us."

"Very well," the Edge Master nodded. "They shall go with us."

So on they went, with the newcomers added to their number. For a moment, Glinda was reminded of her month with the Fellowship: another party going off on a great quest. Now here she was again, another face among a party of warriors, going off on an epic quest to destroy a great evil. She sighed, feeling once again like baggage. Her thoughts were disturbed when the tall form of Ignacio approached, a stern look on his face.

"If anything happens to them, or to us because of them," he said, gesturing to the Easterners. "The fault will be yours."

* * *

**(AN: Spent too many days without a chapter update, so here we go. Next chapter is going to have some interesting stuff in it. Recommend to you, my readers [namely _ComingAndGoingByBubble_, lol], researching Soul Calibur, specifically _Soul Calibur V_, for a little context. I've been re-reading some of my older chapters for contextual clues and important stuff to include in this story. Also recommend reading those to re-familiarize yourself with the story so far.)  
**

**(Probably not the best introduction for Ignacio. I promise, he's not mean: he's a serious, war-hardened veteran and has no tolerance for those who go into danger lightly. Sometimes that can come off as mean, just as the Edge Master's statement of his experience came off as arrogant [or Elphaba's passion came off as insanity in _Wicked_ proper].)  
**


	18. Paradise

**(AN: -sigh- Character development. I've been doing the majority of that for Glinda throughout this story, but now I have eight or so other characters to do as well. This chapter, obviously, is going to be very long. The important thing that I promised, though, is going to happen. Just wade this chapter out.)  
**

* * *

**Paradise**

Unfortunately, for Glinda, those consequences came sooner than she had expected. When night came, Ignacio stood guard while the others sat around a fire that the Edge Master had made. As soon as they started unpacking their supplies, the little boy named Xiba got all excited and started chattering away in his native language. Though Glinda couldn't understand a word of it, the word "_shíwù_" appeared frequently. She quickly came to understand that it meant food, and that she had gotten them into more than she thought she had been bargaining for in the beginning.

They had little food, but it didn't matter to Xiba. He ate and ate and ate, even though the Edge Master told him over and over that they were on a journey and their supplies needed to last. Glinda ate very little, for she was still very lethargic and moodified. The Eastern women kept to themselves, though the fair-haired one, whom Maxi, who spoke German - the language which Glinda could understand - identified as Natsu, bounced about Ignacio, speaking to him even faster than Xiba in a whole different language. Maxi told Glinda that she wanted to stay up and stand guard, but Ignacio obviously found her efforts a bother.

The other woman, whom Maxi introduced as Yan Leixia, kept to herself and would not even speak much to the others. Once their frugal meal was over, Glinda wanted someone to talk to, but by then, even Maxi was unavailable, resting for his watch, which would be third after Ignacio and Hilde. The Edge Master was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed and seemingly sleeping, but Maxi had told Glinda not to bother him in this state. The others more or less fell off to sleep. All except for Cassandra. Glinda edged closer to her and introduced herself. When Cassandra asked Glinda why she was here, she told her about the vision she had seen.

"You also had an oracle?" Cassandra asked.

"I suppose that's what it was," Glinda mused. She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Just how calm you were about it," Glinda stated. "Even where I'm from, visions and oracles are rare for one without any real magical talent."

"Oh, they're even rarer here," Cassandra replied. "But I've had personal experience with such things."

"You have?"

"Well, my sister," she began. "Sev...no, twenty-three." She sighed. "God, has it been that long? Twenty-three years! That's how long it was ago, when my sister received the first oracle. She was sent East to destroy Soul Edge. She was the first one to destroy Soul Edge on her own, and we thought that it was gone for good. But she was called again and again, and then her daughter Pyrrha was abducted." Cassandra sobbed. "And then she died, right in my arms."

"Oh, Cassandra, I'm so sorry."

"The Edge Master says seventeen years passed since my sister died, but for me, it was only a week ago. I woke up in the middle of nowhere, and the Edge Master found me, told me of what happened. My brother-in-law raised my nephew, but he turned into quite the bully, throwing in his lot with the Azure Knight and killing innocent people. My niece, Pyrrha, didn't do much better either. But I heard they destroyed both of the Swords...as it should be." She sighed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Can't believe how weepy and sentimental I've become!"

"It's okay," Glinda said. "We can't all be strong all the time."

"But I have to be," Cassandra replied. "I'm the only family Pyrrha and Patroklos have anymore. Even if I disappeared before they could remember me, I have to find them, I have to take care of them and be there for them: do everything my big sis couldn't do, wasn't permitted to do."

For a moment, Glinda didn't feel as alone as she had previously thought. For one, here was someone with whom she could empathize. She also was in search of a wayward family member, and, she could tell from the emotion in her voice and how her face also was downcast, that it hurt her much as well.

"How do you bear it?"

"Beg pardon?"

"You're going into great danger," Glinda began. "You risk your life for a boy and a girl who've never met you, who don't even know who you are, bearing the weight of so much sorrow. It's a wonder you don't break down into tears every second."

"I'm stronger than that!" Cassandra stated. "Also, I don't let my problems bear me down. Like with Hilde: she doesn't know of how much I bear. She thinks I'm just a childish nuisance, and I let her think that because it helps me to hide what's really happening. As long as I know that I can get under her skin with my cheek and make her smile, it's all worth it."

Glinda was left with the profundity of her words on her mind as she turned her back to the campfire and went to sleep.

* * *

The morning arose with a rude awakening. Glinda was sore and stiff and kicked awake out of a dream of light and beauty. There had been a shape, a person, coming out of the light. She had been so close to seeing a face when the ironclad boot had jarred her back into reality.

"First mark," Ignacio said grimly.

Glinda wondered what he meant until she saw the others standing about her, with equally grim or questioning looks on their faces.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We're out of food," the Edge Master said.

"I didn't..." Glinda began.

"We know you didn't," Hilde stated. "Someone else did."

All eyes then turned from Glinda to Xiba, balancing himself up on the top of his staff and scratching himself. When all eyes turned to him, he looked back with a stupid smile and said: "_Shíwù!_"

"Yes, food," Ignacio returned. "You ate all of our food!" Maxi quickly translated the message and Xiba replied in a wounded tone.

"He says he was hungry late at night," Maxi replied.

"This is a serious undertaking!" Hilde scolded. "We needed our supplies to last for many days, and you reduced us to nothing!"

Maxi translated, then gave them Xiba's answer: "He wants to know if we have any more food."

"You got some nerve!" Cassandra said, crossing her arms.

The argument went back and forth for several minutes. None of them had any extra food and Xiba kept begging for "_shíwù_" over and over that even shy, reserved Yan Leixia snapped at him in their native language. In the end, they decided to move without food and hope that they would find any along the way. This was not the wisest choice, of course, but it was also their only choice. Both Hilde and Ignacio looked at Glinda with disapproval. It had been her vote that allowed the Eastern people to join them.

If, perhaps, she thought they had been unfair in blaming her for their misfortune with her choice, she soon found herself regretting her own decision just as vehemently. They were not gone from their camp-site for more than an hour when Xiba started complaining for "_shíwù_." Glinda tried to explain their situation to him, using Maxi as a mediator for the translation, but no matter what she said or how earnest she was about their predicament, it didn't seem to be sinking in: Xiba wanted only more food.

Every mile they went, they had to listen to Xiba complaining for food. Even if that were not an issue, Yan Leixia couldn't walk very fast and so they were much delayed. Therefore the hours seemed much longer before the sun finally went down and they made camp. Once again, Xiba was hovering around them all, begging for "_shíwù_." That went on until Ignacio spoke forcefully to him and he went off sulking with the others of his company. When Leixia started complaining about her feet hurting, Glinda came to the rescue. With Maxi serving as a translator, she asked to see Leixia's feet.

What she saw was shocking. Once she removed the poor girl's shoes, she saw that her feet were misshapen, as though they had been bound at birth and kept at a very small size. For one fleeting moment, Glinda wondered if Nessarose's feet had looked just as bad when she was younger. But the thought quickly vanished, for it also made her think about Elphaba.

Since they had no food, the Edge Master told them all of the tales of his many adventures and the warriors he had trained and fought. The strangest of these tales was that of the warrior with an owl's head who was locked beneath the earth. Though rumors of an owl-headed warrior of great strength had surfaced seventeen years ago, they had long since faded into silence. At last the Edge Master began to tell the story of the Two Swords, and Glinda paid special attention.

"This story, like all the others I have told," the Edge Master began. "Is as true as anything in this world. I have played an important role in the tale of deeds which you are about to hear, and while sometimes I have not always played the part of blade-wielder, I have learned much from the long years. Furthermore, this story will be profitable for some of you to hear, since it concerns the deeds in which we ourselves are now encumbered." His old eyes fell on Glinda as he spoke those last words.

"Long ago," he continued. "In a time known by no man, there was a great king who forged for himself a great sword: that sword was Soul Edge. With it, the Hero King made his kingdom wide and powerful. But his son coveted the Sword and stole it. And once the Sword tasted innocent blood, it became a weapon of evil, a powerful will bent on destruction and devouring. Using a single shard of the now cursed Sword, the Hero King created another sword, a pure sword, one that would destroy the Sword he had first created: that was Soul Calibur."

Everyone was quiet as they listened intently to the words of the Edge Master.

"The Hero King defeated Soul Edge, but at a cost dearer to him than anything else. In his grief over the loss of his son, he locked himself beneath the earth. But the Swords were at large. Over the years, in secret and at large, they paved a path of destruction: the one to destroy the other and the other to destroy all things. Twenty-three years ago, the Spirit Sword was lost, hidden away, while the Evil Sword was in the hands of a pirate captain. Sophitia Alexandra, sister of Cassandra and mother of Pyrrha and Patroklos, slew the pirate and broke the Sword. But it had grown into two, and she had only destroyed its mate. Shortly thereafter, the ruins of the ship washed ashore and Siegfried Schtauffen found the other half."

"Wait!" Glinda interrupted. "Siegfried had Soul Edge? Not _the_ Siegfried, the one from the _Schwarzwind_ group..."

"The same," the Edge Master nodded. "For seven years, he was enslaved by it, destroying and corrupting all within his path as the Azure Knight. But a lone warrior from the French Kingdom struck him down and he was finally freed from the power of Soul Edge. He sought to hide the Swords away, but the blue armor he once wore was animated and came back from the dead as a living entity of its own, infused with the malignant will of Soul Edge. They fought a seemingly endless struggle, until the Swords became so powerful that they would have torn the world asunder. Yet, in the end, Siegfried, wielding Soul Calibur, was victorious over Soul Edge and the Azure Knight. Now here we are, with our only hope destroyed."

"Uh, excuse me?" Glinda asked, raising her hand. "Uh, you mentioned Sophi...uh, Cassandra's sister as the mother of the two children, Pyrrha and Patroklos. But how do they figure into this story?"

"Before Soul Edge was silenced," the Edge Master answered. "A servant of the Evil Sword kidnapped Pyrrha when she was very young. Sophitia forsook everything to find her child, but when she did, she learned a terrible secret: Pyrrha had been corrupted by Soul Edge and could not live if it were destroyed. Therefore she made the horrible choice and gave her life to keep Soul Edge from harm."

"That's horrible!" Glinda sympathized. "B-But wasn't there something that could be done? I mean, Pyrrha could be helped, right?"

"There was one thing that could save her," the Edge Master said. "Three sacred relics: the Kali-Yuga, the Staff of Purification, Dvapara-Yuga, the Holy Stone, and Soul Calibur."

Suddenly, someone interrupted. All eyes turned to Xiba, and Maxi then translated.

"He says that's a lie," Maxi repeated. "He says the sacred relics are a child's bedtime story, and that Soul Calibur is evil. He says..." He sighed. "He says it gives him the creeps."

"Foolish child," the Edge Master sighed.

Suddenly the two Eastern women jumped to Xiba's defense, and then the Edge Master started scolding them in their own tongue. So fast was their speech and because Maxi was not translating, Glinda had no idea of what was being said.

"These words have been repeated by all!" the Edge Master stated. "But they are wrong!" He walked back to his seat and prepared to continue the story, but was interrupted.

"Excuse me," Cassandra interrupted. "I'm not exactly keen on the Spirit Sword either, but there is something I've been wondering. What do the other relics do? I've heard of the Holy Stone, but what exactly does it do?"

"Wait a minute!" Glinda stood up. "Uh, Mr. Edge Master, uh, person, listen, I mean no disrespectation or rudeness to your, uh, Greatness, but I think I deserve an explanation."

"Of what?"

"Of this Soul Calibur business! I mean, it seems that everyone I talk to is saying that it's evil or dangerous. I mean, maybe there's some truth in what they're saying, wouldn't you think?"

"I agree," Cassandra said. "It's brought my family nothing but misfortune and you want us to _join_ with it?"

The Edge Master shook his head and sighed. For a moment he was lost in thought and Glinda and Cassandra returned to their seats, as though they had spoken amiss and would not be given an answer for their insolence. After a lengthy pause, the Edge Master stroked his beard and thus answered.

"Soul Calibur was created from a shard of Soul Edge," he began. "Many will stop there and say that neither sword is wholly good or evil, since they are both a part of each other. But it's history does not end there. After the Hero King's 'death', a tribe of holy men from the South found Soul Calibur and purified it. When it at last found its way to the Temple of the Ling Sheng Su, it was pure and void of any evil.

"That is not to say, however, that Soul Calibur is not dangerous. To the contrary, it is very dangerous. I am dangerous, having the knowledge of a million fighters of thousands of years. Cassandra is dangerous and Hilde is dangerous, Maxi is very dangerous and you yourself, Glinda, are dangerous yourself in your own right. For how many others have faced the dangers of which you speak and have lived to tell the tale?"

Glinda sighed, realizing where he was going and feeling very foolish for her outburst.

"It is dangerous because it has one goal: the ultimate destruction of Soul Edge and its evil. However, Siegfried told me that Soul Calibur will not bend you to its will, as Soul Edge does, but it will mold itself to suit your desires. Furthermore, though it was purified, it must also be wielded by a pure soul, just and merciful, whose heart is not blackened with hate or vengeance. Therein was Siegfried's greatest error, for he entrusted Soul Calibur to an angry young man whose heart is filled with hatred and vengeance, and therefore Soul Calibur was corrupted because of it.

"Is it possible for the Sword to be healed and for it to become a weapon of good once more? Who knows. None living now dare to touch it, for fear of the Paradise beyond. Heh! They would rather destroy it, as Xiba and Cassandra would have it so and as Pyrrha and Patroklos have done. Yet even so, I have spoken with the last wielder of the Kali-Yuga, and with the one who was healed, though it spoke not. It is possible, though very difficult, to use the power of the three relics to heal one who has been corrupted by Soul Edge. However, I fear that that may prove to be impossible, for their power was tied into that of Soul Calibur and now it is gone forever.

"The staff, the mirror and the Sword." the Edge Master now spoke more to himself than to the others. Glinda, however, was paying attention. Having learned more in these last few moments than she had in months with the _Schwarzwind_, she wanted to know more. "A sad day it was when the wielder of the staff listened to the men of the 'new learning'. He turned his means toward the destruction of the Holy Stone and so robbed the world of its power. A good decision it was to let the staff pass from him, but woe still that his heir proved to be so dim-witted. Woe also that the Stone was broken, and the shards destroyed by he. Only a few remain."

For one brief moment, he looked at Glinda and winked. She then went to her bed-roll, back to the dwindling fire, and tried to sleep, his words still buzzing about in her head. Who exactly was _he_, who had destroyed the shards of the Holy Stone? What if the relics really _did_ have the power to heal those corrupted by Soul Edge? It would mean that there would be hope, even now, that she could save Elphaba and they would, together, hand in hand, return to Maaptia and to their loved ones. But what good was hoping on that, since the relics were destroyed, lost or weakened?

* * *

In the darkness of her sleep, she dreamed again. Like with the previous dream, she found herself in a world of light, yet oddly enough blanketed in clouds. There was the shining light, and someone was walking out from it. She begged that the light did not fade away, or that she was not interrupted. A longing awoke within her to see just who was behind that light.

At last the figure appeared, and Glinda suppressed a cry. There, standing before her just as it was in her dream, was the person of Elphaba. Clad not in black but in white, her skin also was pale, as it had been in Midgard the first time, yet there was no denying that face or those eyes. It was the one she had missed for so long.

"Elphie?" she whispered, fearing that anything above a whisper would destroy the dream and prove it all to be nothing.

"You are so close," the visage of her friend said. "It is here, among you, in your very hand. It is the only way you can save her."

Glinda was about to ask what these words meant, when she remembered what the Edge Master had said and what the others had said. She was suddenly on her alert, and looked at the pale figure suspiciously.

"You're not my Elphie!" she said. "She would never wear white."

"White is the color of good witches, isn't it?" the face of Elphaba asked.

"And your skin! Just who _are_ you?"

At this, the face fell and looked down at the floor.

"I am nothing and no one," the being said. "I was made out of your desire alone."

"Me?" Glinda asked.

"You have held me for a long time, Glinda," the image said. "With what little strength I had left, I searched your thoughts and entered into your innermost desire. Among many things, there was one that pertains to us: you want your friend, Elphaba, to be loved and accepted, even as she is. But you know that your people cannot accept her for her skin color. Therefore I am come to you as Elphaba, pale white and wearing white, the color of good witches."

"Just what _are_ you?" Glinda asked again.

The image hesitated for a moment, then lifted its head back to Glinda.

"I have many names," the image said. "In the North, I am known as Nimue, in the East I am called Eden. To some, I am Elysium. I am the spirit of the Sword."

"Which Sword?"

"Soul Calibur," the spirit said. "You have carried me with you for a long space of time, though you knew it not. Help me return to power, and I will give you what you desire."

"Wait," Glinda interrupted. "I want my friend Elphie safe. Once I have her, I'm going to leave this world forever. I don't want any more part in your war with Soul Edge than I have already."

"That is not your decision to make."

"What if I want to make it?"

"You cannot," the spirit said. "If Soul Edge is permitted to go on unchecked, it will devour this world. Once it knows of the existence of your world, do you think it will be content to remain imprisoned on an empty world, devoid of souls, after it has gorged itself on all life and hungers still? Be warned, Glinda, that it knows of a certain of your world from the memories of your friend, who now possesses the Sword."

Glinda collapsed onto her knees and, while she made no sound, she became aware of hot tears trickling down her face.

"I can't do this," she sobbed. "It's too big for me. I-I'm nothing, nobody, without her."

The white, the fog and the spirit faded, and Glinda found herself in a dark tunnel. Suddenly she knew exactly where she was: she was back in her dreams. She had seen this particular tunnel before, always dark and cloudy, and she could not tell up from down or hear words clearly. By now she had come to the conclusion that the dreams she had been having, aside from one in particular, were actually visions, memories from her duplicates. As they were still her, they would return to her mind in the hours of the night with the knowledge of all that they had seen.

Within the darkness she was, but she suddenly became aware of something else with her. She balked at first at the face, fearing that it was the spirit once again. But no, it was real enough. The face was green and she was clad in black, as was her custom. The face faded out into the darkness for a moment, but then, to her surprise and amazement, she could hear words.

"You have to be brave, Glin, for both of us!"

Another voice, loud and close, sounded. It was her own voice, echoing off the walls of the tunnel and returning into her own ears louder than before.

"I don't wanna be brave! I can't do this, Elphie! I'm too scared!"

Out of the darkness, a pair of green hands appeared and suddenly the green face was very close. She could see dark eyes swimming with tears, yet held back. The mouth was quivering as she spoke, and Glinda guessed rightly that Elphaba was scared as well, yet she would not show it, not in front of her.

"Listen to me! No matter what waits for us at the end of that tunnel, you have to remember that you're Glinda Upland, the bravest woman I know and the best friend I've ever had! You've crossed mountains, gone through darkness and terror, escaped the worst that has been thrown your way, I know you can do this!"

The darkness enveloped them both and Glinda knew no more.

* * *

**(AN: There you go, a nice long chapter to tie you over. A little bit of character development [lol, Xiba is already such a simple, one-dimensional character, that him eating all of their food is pretty much all the character development he needs] and the interesting thing I said would happen _did_ happen.)**

**(That was Elysium in her dreams, the pale-skinned Elphaba in white. If any of you gelphie-shippers out there who have already played _SCV_ are reading this, I'm sure you're geeking out. But the ship of this series is Fiyeraba. As I said, Elysium's appearance is not sexually based, as with Patroklos. Glinda wants to see Elphaba loved and accepted, just as she is, without people seeing her for the green skin or the color of her clothes. [I kid you not, in _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, the people of Oz really did believe that white clothes meant one was a good witch.)  
**

**(I'm setting the scene for the chapters to come, so just hold on to your hats, because we're getting close to the end.)  
**


	19. A Trail of Dead

**(AN: We're close, but not ending yet. I find myself alive with a new eagerness to finish this story, or even to make the sequel and one afterwards. After all, I've been building up so much, so how can I just shut it off before the climax? Lol)**

**(Enjoy the new chapter! [btw, 'highway' used is the archaic version, which generally means 'road', not a super-road, like the ones they have these days]).  
**

* * *

**A Trail of Dead**

Glinda said nothing about her dream or about the spirit Elysium to the others. Instead, she kept her nose down and walked along with the rest of them. Regardless of what she had seen, it did little to ease the grimness of reality. They were without food, starving and tired, and Xiba was by now annoying everyone with his cries for food. By this time, another word from his native tongue had been added to their vocabulary: _manjū_. From Maxi's description, it was a kind of rice bun that was filled with bean paste and then steamed, which were Xiba's favorite food. As they had none of these, since none were made this far west, it became rather futile to ask: regardless, Xiba continued pestering them for requests for food, so much that even Glinda felt like snapping at him. Still on they went, on empty stomachs and failing limbs.

On the third day from their departure from the camp, they came to a highway running east to west that must have seen quite frequent travel in happier times. Today it was deserted, with no sight or sound of hoof, foot or wagon wheel for miles in either direction. As it was directly in their path, Ignacio and Hilde began scouting the area around the road for any signs of anything, with Natsu bouncing after them. The others rested, while Xiba asked them over and over if they had any food.

"What is he saying?" Glinda asked, after she shook her head no when he asked for "_shíwù_" and he began chattering away quickly in his own language.

"He says he's hungry," Maxi said, watching and listening to every word and gesture coming from Xiba. He pointed hands both ways across the road wildly, then mimed himself scooping something off an invisible plate and into his mouth. "He says that a road means an inn, and an inn means food. He wants to get to an inn so he can eat."

"Don't we all!" Glinda sighed.

"Listen, don't feel too bad about what Ignacio said," Maxi assured her. "Xiba's a handful. Believe me, I had to endure these three for months on end when we crossed the Silk Road to get here."

"How did you manage?"

"Heh, I barely know myself." He laughed, then addressed several strands of black hair that had fallen out of place.

Suddenly, there was a cry of alarm. Glinda rose to her feet and followed the others who were running towards the cry. Hilde and Cassandra stood aghast before something. When she got a look of what had caused them to exclaim, Glinda covered her hands with her mouth to keep from vomiting. Lying on the side of the road were seven bodies, all of them dead and rotting. Most of them had slashes across their bodies, but some had been gutted and disemboweled, their black and shriveled entrails still ripe and rank in the balmy afternoon air.

"Do you see now?" Ignacio said, as he approached the bodies. "This is the kind of mercy you can expect on this journey."

Xiba whimpered in fear, Leixia cried, while Natsu simply shrugged, as though this were nothing new to her. All the others, however, were quite disgusted with what they saw. Hilde knelt down beside the bodies and spoke silently in what Glinda guessed was prayer.

"What a horrible way to die!" Cassandra stated grimly.

"Edge Master," Ignacio said to the old man. "Perhaps you can explain this riddle to us." He removed his own sword from its sheath and pointed to the wounds. "These slashes were made with a sword, swung fast and light. The wounds are not very deep."

"Hmm," mused the elder. "I know this style, though I've never seen it used in such a way."

"Who did this?" Glinda asked.

"I have a very good guess," the old man said. "In fact, I'm almost certain that we're on the right trail. The style is _Shinden Tsushima-ryu Battōjyutsu_. The master of that style died seventeen years ago. He only taught one pupil, a woman of Western origins living in the East. She herself also had only one pupil, to whom she also taught that style: Patroklos Alexander, the son of Sophitia."

"Patroklos!" Glinda exclaimed. "You mean _he_ did this?" She looked in horror at the bodies. From her memories of him, she had taken him for nothing more than a coward and a bully, mean-spirited but otherwise weak. But this kind of brutality was beyond the work of a bully.

"The sword wounds, yes," the old man said. "But, I don't think these others were slain by him. Their bodies were torn open by hand."

"But what manner of creature could tear a human open with their bare hands?" Ignacio asked.

They were silent for a long while, none of them having any answers to this burning question.

"Let us leave, then," the Edge Master said. "And let these poor folk rest in peace."

"But you said we were on the right trail!" Hilde stated. "If so, what's our next move?"

All eyes turned to the Edge Master, whose eyes were closed momentarily before he spoke again.

"Be wary of any signs about us," he said.

The others took this to mean, more or less, that they would find some sign of what happened after the bloodbath in the surrounding area. So Natsu and Leixia went east down the road while Maxi and Xiba went west down the road. They were gone for two hours before returning with no sign of their quarry on the roads. Meanwhile, the others had not been idle. Hilde and Cassandra searched all the area from whence they had come, in case they had missed something important. This left poor Glinda with the stoic Ignacio, who still had nothing to say to her.

"Uh, can I ask you a question?" she asked, while they were searching. He answered with a 'hmm', which she took to mean 'yes.' "Why are you so mean to us?"

"You throw yourselves lightly into the arms of danger," he said. "Why shouldn't I?"

"You know, you assume too much for your own good."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do. You assume that I don't know the meaning of the word 'danger.'"

"Don't you?"

"Uh, yes, I _do!_"

"I believe you not, not when you speak so gaily."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He turned about suddenly, his deep brown eyes boring a hole through her with his stare.

"It means that you speak of danger lightly," he began. "Yet I can see there is no sign of alarm in your eyes or your voice. You have not faced true danger, not like I have, or the Edge Master, or Hilde, or even Siegfried."

"How dare you!" Glinda exclaimed, punctuating her statement by slapping Ignacio across the face. "I've been to a place so horrible, so dreadful, that no one since has ever lived to tell of the horrors beneath the Shadow. I've been in the midst of a storm at sea, when land was out of sight and it seemed that we would be lost, drowned in the endless sea. I've been in the midst of a siege, full of blood, fire, death and fear, where our enemies threw the heads of our fallen among us. So don't you sit there and tell me that I don't know danger!"

Ignacio said nothing, but turned his back on her, rubbing his chin where her hand had struck him. He didn't really believe her, but then again, she barely believed it herself. Just the bringing up again of those horrible memories made her wonder just how she had gotten through them. Part of her, that silly, ignorant, arrogant part, the 'Galinda' part of her mind, told her that those who had warned her of such things, the Wise and such, were not wise at all and that the dangers were not really that dangerous. But she quickly dismissed this ridiculous notion.

_I can't think that way,_ she told herself. _If I did, then he _would_ be right about me._

At last the Easterners arrived, having found nothing down the road for a long way. But even as they were planning on giving up this incident as unrelated, someone gave a cry and they all ran towards the northern side of the road and to the west. There they found Natsu, standing over another body with similar wounds of a sword as the others.

"It appears there was another," the Edge Master said, coming upon the body last of the group. "Killed as most of them were." He then looked about. "Ah, there is our next sign." He pointed to something that was spattered on the ground just a few feet away from the body.

"It looks like blood," Hilde stated.

"Uh-huh," the Edge Master nodded. "My guess was right. They went this way." He pointed north-west.

And so, with very little time to gather thoughts or to ask questions, they went onward again. Glinda followed on behind, disturbed by the sights she had seen but gladdened also that they were actually going somewhere, following _something_.

* * *

The trail on which they had begun was quickly proven to be the right choice. Every mile or so, they would find several more bodies, all of them slain in the same gruesome manner. As though this were not grim enough, they soon found that the trail of dead soon met with another trail of slain. But this new trail was not like the other trail: these new ones had been slain so horribly that scarce was left of them but blood and ashes.

The first of such sites of wanton massacre was amidst what had once been a village but was now smoking and blackened ruins. Many had been burned in the fire, but some bodies also were left unburned but horribly mangled. Ignacio and Hilde searched the ruins in grim silence, while the others followed, gazing in horror at the bodies. Xiba was forbidden to loot the ruins for food, as the Edge Master said it would be disrespectful and dishonorable.

"Have we lost the trail?" Cassandra asked. "Surely nothing could have survived what happened here."

"Perhaps," the Edge Master said, stroking his chin. "But part of me wonders who it was who burned this village down. The Alexandros children? Doubtless they might have done so in the past, but for what reason?"

"Reasons don't have much when it comes to them," Maxi stated. "I've fought that ass-hole Patroklos, he's unstable."

"'Unstable?'" Cassandra queried.

"Insane if you will," Maxi replied. "There's more wrong with him than just being misled by the Graf Dumas."

"Yes," the Edge Master nodded. "I believe he had an encounter with his previous master, who revealed his folly to him. I could see the unease in his eyes."

"Wait, you _saw_ him?" Cassandra asked.

Glinda, however, was not paying attention. Something else was catching her attention, more than the burned town and the blackened bones and whatever the others were discussing. From her pocket, she began to feel a chill, as though she had placed a handful of snow into her pocket which only now she felt. She reached into her pocket, but her hand found only the tiny blue shard she had found in the ruins of Denevér Castle. As soon as it was in her hand, she became of the strange yet persistent knowledge that there was more to this shard than she had first believed. It seemed to move in her hand, shaking ever so slightly.

She also became desirous to have in her hand the other thing. This she had kept in her pocket for a long time, so long that she had forgotten about it, just as she had forgotten about the crystal, the broom and the Grimmerie. This thing in particular was given to her by Salia, though why she had kept it for this long she knew not. Perhaps, beyond her comprehension, she had kept it towards this day. In her other hand, she removed the Last Sword, and found that it as well was shaking slightly, as if in response to its proximity to the shard.

_What are you trying to tell me?_ she thought.

There was no immediate answer, but the sword and the shard were shaking just as before. She also became aware that the shard began growing colder, and quickly stowed it back into her dress pocket. The sword, however, she kept in her hand, for she felt a little bit safer with it in her hand. She looked at it, the arms' length blade, inlaid with Greek letters. It was beautiful, to say the least, and it had a feeling to it both ancient and nascent: as though it were very old, and yet hadn't worn or grown blunt with age. For a brief moment, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of green upon the blade, but thought it was a trick of the light.

After a moment, she looked upon the desolation of the town and made her way quickly to Edge Master's side.

"What happened here?" she asked.

"This kind of destruction," he replied. "It's too similar to the mayhem reeked upon Europe during the reign of the Azure Knight, but..."

"But what?"

"Graf Dumas, the one who calls himself the 'Azure Knight', Patroklos' former master, has no interest in slaughter. Though his servants, especially Patroklos, have been known to cause such destruction, this is severe, even for him."

"But then who?"

"You know the answer," he replied.

Glinda did, but she refused to believe it. She had seen the vision, something she didn't understand, with faces that were destroyed by the green figure. She had seen the green hand wrap around the hilt of the Cursed Sword, but she refused to believe it. Not even if...

_No, I can't think that way! I have to believe she can come back, I have to try.  
_

* * *

There was nothing left of the village, and the trail of bodies was nowhere to be found outside of the ruins. Therefore, as evening was setting in, they began searching the ruins for the least destroyed building, in which they would camp for the night. Being both the vanguard and the heavily armed and armored of the group, Hilde and Ignacio went in first, scouring the charred remains of the town for anything half-way decent. However, that search was proving to be futile. Whatever power had destroyed this village had done a thorough job of their destruction.

"Nothing," Hilde said, reporting to the Edge Master once they were done. "All the buildings are too badly damaged, they're not fit for vermin to live in, much less us."

"Well, can't we at least stop for the night here?" Glinda asked.

"This is a graveyard," the Edge Master said. "Too many freshly dead about here. Even the animals were killed."

"But I'm tired and hungry..." Before Glinda could continue, Xiba added his two cents in his own language. "...and the trail seems to have died."

"We cannot stay in this village," the old man said. He then turned his gaze northwest, pointing to several mountains on the horizon. "We must make for those hills. From their heights, we can see all for many miles around, including any other destroyed villages. We'll find the trail again, I promise you."

Glinda and the others sighed at the prospect of having to walk into the mountains. From her time with the Fellowship, she knew that climbing mountains was not an easy thing to do. Worse would it be with these, especially with the childish Xiba and Natsu and Yan Leixia with her bound feet. Then again, she herself was not as accustomed to or willing to be climbing mountains as she thought of herself. Either way, she was in for a hard time when they reached the feet of those mountains.

Moments later, Ignacio returned from where he had been investigating the ruins. Unlike Hilde, he spent a few moments more in some burned out heap which she had dismissed as utterly useless.

"Did you find anything worth sleeping in?" Maxi asked.

"No," he shook his head.

"You were certainly gone long enough," Hilde added.

"While we were searching the ruins," Ignacio began, speaking to all of them but with his eyes turned towards the Edge Master. "I found several bodies that were not scorched. A few days or less old, I warrant, or I know nothing of battle. They bore the marks of the Greek swordsman, but there were two others who bore different marks: the other had been gutted, as before, but the second had the wounds of a broadsword upon his body. Those were the only visible wounds on that body, for it looked as though it had also been burned as well, though its burns came not from without, but from the wound."

"A broadsword?" Hilde asked.

"I believe you Germans would call it a _zweihander_?" he asked.

"How would you read that riddle, old man?" Cassandra inquired.

They were all silent, trying to ponder what this new riddle meant. Even Glinda tried to venture a guess with what little knowledge she had: of course, knowing so little herself, and less than these about her, she could come up with nothing of any importance, as she had feared. At last, stumped, the Edge Master shook his head.

"There will be time to ponder this riddle later," he said. "For now, we must find the trail again, and the only way to do so is to climb up those mountains."

* * *

**(AN: I can stretch this out a chapter or two more. I'm actually getting interested in this story again, so I hope to be putting in more time updating it and such. Once again, I'll need to do some character development, but that'll be in the next chapter. As for Ignacio, he will get a story all of his own, which will tell about him from beginning to end [he has a much bigger role in the events of _SCV_ in my fanon than what you see here in this story].)**

**(For now, however, read and review while I get to work on the next chapter!)  
**


	20. A Dreadful Climb

**(AN:)**

* * *

**A Dreadful Climb**

Glinda was roused gently from her slumber by Hilde. She wished that she would have been permitted a few more minutes to sleep, for she was once more deep within a dream. This time, instead of a spirit, she saw a great underground chamber, with a high ceiling and shafts of light spilling down in narrow beams, which then danced upon the floor in beautiful patterns. She was moving through the chamber slowly yet determinedly. At the far end of the room, there stood a small table, with tall, narrow legs of gold and a cushion of red velvet. Sitting upon the cushion was something tiny, shining golden white all the way from across the room. Before she could reach it or find out what it was, she was called forth from the world of sleep.

"Wake up," Hilde said.

"Already?" Glinda moaned groggily. She lifted up her sleep-filled eyes, rubbed them once and saw the world was still blanketed in the gray hours before morning. "The sun's not up yet."

"But we must be," Hilde replied. "It will take us all of the day to reach the mountain and we must start as early as possible."

There was no use arguing, for she was up already and the others were being awoken shortly thereafter. She couldn't go back to sleep and if she waited, she would soon be left behind. So she forced herself up, trying in vain to ignore the rumbling over her stomach and Xiba's annoying cries of "_shíwù_" and "_manjū_."

By the time the sun was up, the land had started to rise. Their march became increasingly rigorous, uphill and on an empty stomach. Despite his heavy armor, Ignacio was at the lead, with Hilde following on behind. Maxi and the Edge Master went up next, with Glinda, Cassandra and Natsu following on next. Xiba and Leixia took the rear: since she was the slowest, he walked with her to keep her from falling behind. The train, however, seemed to be getting longer as they were falling steadily behind.

Suddenly, Glinda tripped and fell onto the ground. Cassandra called for a halt as she knelt down to help Glinda up to her feet. The Edge Master, meanwhile, took a step back and offered his hand as well.

"I am sorry," he said. "We have come a long way on very little nourishment."

"No, no, that's my fault," Glinda sighed. "I should have thought about that when..." She noticed the old man was looking at something that had fallen on the ground.

"You have a sword?" the Edge Master asked, lifting up the blade that had fallen when Glinda fell to the ground.

"Huh?" Glinda sighed.

"Not just any sword," Cassandra breathed. "I know that sword. It's the Last Sword, that's my sister's sword."

"Is it?" Glinda asked, looking at the weapon.

"Young lady," the old man said, turning to Glinda. "Would you care to learn how to use that?"

"I don't know..." she sighed. "I'm so tired as it is."

"As we all are," the Edge Master nodded. "But there may come a time soon when you will need to use it."

"Later," Glinda said. "Not here."

"Fair enough." the Edge Master said, falling in with the others as they continued up the mountain-side.

"If there _is_ something I'd care to do," Glinda mentioned. "It's have a bath."

"There's no time," Hilde called back.

"I'm tired," she sighed. "And..." She buried her nose in her arm-pit, then gave a look of disgust, retching slightly. "...and, never mind."

"What?"

"I stink!" Glinda groaned. "Sweet Oz, does anybody here care about washing?"

"There hasn't been any water around here," Cassandra stated.

"Besides," Hilde said. "There isn't time for anything."

"I'm sick of being filthy and stinking!" Glinda sighed. "I'm having a bath at the first river we find!"

"If you do this," Ignacio said. "We will not wait up for you."

"Hold," the Edge Master interjected. "We have been hard on the lady Glinda concerning the Easterners. That is hardly fair."

"We have no time for fairness," Ignacio returned.

"Still, we have been too hard on her," the Edge Master replied. "As soon as we find water, we will rest and you will have your wish."

Glinda smiled, happy that, for once in this state of horrible things that had happened lately, she had finally gotten something she wanted. It had been almost a year since she had gotten her way, and it made her feel younger again. Maybe she was just being her old silly self again. That thought then gave way to a new one, one that gave her hope for a recovery, even after all of the horrible things that had happened.

_Whatever happens, I just might be able to survive this...I just might be..._

* * *

The day wore on, and they found no sight of water anywhere on the heights of the mountain-side. As the sun climbed high and passed on above their heads into the hours after noon, they grew hot and sweaty under the scorching heat of the sun. Maybe the daughters of Gilikin were made of sterner stuff, even if they behaved outwardly like an easily-spoiled cream puff, or else Glinda had some secret strength, forged during long treks across the North lands, Gorgoroth and the desert northeast of Meraburg. Nevertheless, she endured, even if only barely.

The others were not so fortunate. From the back of the line, Xiba's voice would cry out "_shíwù__!_" every moment, his voice rising in his frustration over being long denied any food. This made them all hungry, and only increased their weariness. Every so often, one would faint from exhaustion and had to be carried until they were strong enough to go on their own or else the one who carried them fainted as well. While Glinda did not faint, her limbs were aching with every step, her mouth dry and her forehead burning with fervent heat. Those in the front, who were experienced in long distant traveling, did not faint, but their walking became slower.

At last, as evening was yet three hours or so away, they came upon the sound which Glinda had been dying to hear ever since Maaptia: the sound of falling water. Merely the sound alone was enough to make her heart glad and fill her limbs with renewed strength. Up the path she ran, though it grew steeper and steeper until it came at last upon a wide plateau like a shelf, cut into the side of the mountain. Soft grass grew up to the lip of the hill, with several small bushes about the back of the plateau, closest to the main girth of the mountain, and a narrow stream cut the plateau in half on the side closest to them. Higher up the mountain it came, falling down in steady stream until the sharpness of the overhanging hill sent it billowing down into a small pool at the far end of the shelf, which was little over one foot in depth.

"Here we will rest," the Edge Master said.

All were more than willing to rest. Even Ignacio, who hadn't said a single word of complaint, suffered in silence beneath pounds of heavy armor that boiled him in his own sweat. As they were settling down, he and Hilde began removing their armor. Beneath, they wore doublets of leather, hers a deep, blood red and his a dull gray. In these, armored only on their feet, they were allowed a little respite from the heat. Last up the hill were the Easterners: Xiba had fainted the most, followed by Leixia and lastly Natsu, though she had had it better by reason of training which she told no one, not even Maxi.

"Xiba wants to know how much further," Maxi, who helped the stragglers onto the plateau, asked.

"This plateau faces south," the Edge Master replied, after quickly examining the landscape. "We must cross to the other side, where we'll have a view of the north-west."

While they talked, Glinda stowed away to the edge of the small pool of water. She dipped her hands into the water first: it was cold, but anything was better than the heat that had overwhelmed them as they were climbing up the mountain. She washed first her face, gasping in delight as the cold water soothed the burning heat. Once her face felt a bit better, she began to address the issue that arose from her desire to wash herself. Before, when she had done so in Ithilien, there had only been Fiyero and he had, for the most part, not looked.

Ignacio looked old enough to find women interesting, but he also seemed respectable enough to keep his distance. Though he was harsh on her because he believed she didn't take this journey seriously, he was more or less courteous to her, though grim and stoic. Even in Oz, there were rumors about old sorcerers and their fascinations with young men. Glinda thought these notions ridiculous, especially since the only wizard she knew had 'known' a Munchkinlander woman who, as far as she could tell, had been of age. The Edge Master didn't look like such things occupied his heart and mind, and she knew that he wouldn't look. The other men made her a little more uneasy. Xiba was young and infatuated with food, but he was also a young man and would probably loose most of his lust for food if he saw a naked woman. Possibly just as bad, if not worse, was Maxi. Though he was nice enough, she got the distinct impression that he was very much like Fiyero from Shiz: lawless and carefree. He might...

"Uh, excuse me?" she called back. "I, uh...could you all, like, look away, please?"

For a moment there was silence, as though she had disturbed some important discussion with a question about something as inconsequential as the weather.

"Well, what are you all gawking at?" Ignacio asked. "Let's go hunting."

As soon as Maxi translated the word 'hunting', Xiba became excited and bounced off after the older man. Glinda mouthed 'thank you' at Ignacio, who winked at her as he led Xiba and Maxi further up the trail, on whatever 'hunt' he had planned for them. The Edge Master turned his back towards Glinda, sat down and began meditating.

The water was very cold, and Glinda must have shouted and cried out while stepping into the pool, but she enjoyed herself nonetheless. Once she felt that she was sufficiently clean (as far as she could manage, given the conditions), she walked back out and placed her filthy old clothes back onto her body. It felt odd, wearing filthy clothes on clean skin. But she had no other clothes to wear if she chose to wash these, and, apart from that, she didn't know where to start. Growing up in the Upper Uplands didn't teach you much, especially when your family was rich enough to afford servants for that kind of work.

When she was done and clothed, the men had returned. The hunting was not as successful as they had hoped, but they had managed with only a few rabbits, which were more than they had in a long while. With some berries they had found in the bushes and water gathered from the fall before it fell into the pool, held in either their hands or the helmets of Ignacio and Hilde, they had for themselves quite a feast (by their standards).

The sky was darkening when they had their fire readied and the rabbits skinned and roasting. Xiba balanced himself on the top of his staff, eying the rabbits hungrily and licking his lips. As he had been useless on the hunt, Ignacio and Maxi had delegated him with the task of gathering berries: he ended up eating them all as he was picking them and brought back none. Now none of them trusted him with food as far as his staff could reach.

Meanwhile, the others were gathered around the fire, warming themselves in the cool of the evening. Most were talking, save for Glinda, who had no share in their adventures and therefore couldn't speak on the subjects on which they were discussing.

"Glinda," Hilde spoke up. "Edge Master tells me you wish to learn the use of the sword."

"I, uh, yes." she replied, surprised to be in the middle of attention once more.

"I would like to assist you myself, if you are willing," she said. "I have been tutored in the arts of war and, while I may not have the Edge Master's experience, I can help you in other ways."

"Thank you," Glinda nodded. She then turned to Maxi and asked him the one question they were all dying to know: "How much further till we reach the top?"

"We didn't go very far," he replied. "But as far as I could tell, even with a late start, we could reach the western side of the mountain by noon."

Everyone sighed in relief. For them, it was enough that they could reach the top, or the next place where they could rest. This journey had become quite the trial and, for many of them, it seemed pointless.

Just then, Leixia muttered something. "She says it seems prudent that we should end this voyage." Maxi translated.

"What? Why?" Glinda asked, stirred from her lethargy.

"She says that there has been no sign of what we seek," Maxi translated after she spoke. "We are all tired and hungry, and she believes that we can do no good if we continue." Then Natsu jumped in. "She agrees. She says that we don't need to fight: Soul Calibur is destroyed and that is all that matters."

Xiba and Cassandra added their agreement, but then, to their surprise, Ignacio walked into the middle of them to add his say.

"The lot of you know nothing, if you think that Soul Calibur is as great an enemy as Soul Edge," he began. "For my part, I have had personal experience with Soul Edge. My father worked for a rich man in my country who was...infatuated with Soul Edge. He spent his whole life gathering news and artifacts related to Soul Edge: and in the end, he died with his relics. More over than that, I have seen what Soul Edge does to people, to the world. Anything is better than that! Now, I know that we are all weary, I know that we have had nothing to eat and long miles to walk, but rest while you may. Soon, there will be such food as we..."

He turned back, gesturing to coneys roasting over the fire, only to find that they were gone. He did not have to look long or far, for a loud belch erupted from Xiba's mouth and they saw him wiping his mouth on his trousers.

"Glutton! Epicure! Shameless little swine!" Ignacio roared, crossing over to the young child, who rose his staff in defense and cowered behind it. "Do you think of nothing but yourself?" Xiba retorted in a high-pitched, frightened voice that crackled as he spoke. "What did he say?" Ignacio turned back to Maxi.

"He said that he was hungry," Maxi said. "He said that you should have watched the rabbits better. He says that he is still hungry."

Ignacio struck Xiba across the face with his fist, sending the little boy flailing to the ground with a cry of "_shíwù__!_"

"We could die out here because of your gluttony!" retorted Ignacio, his voice powerful and angry.

None of the others had seen him this angry before, and they did not wish to say a word for fear of feeling his wrath. But he was temperate, and did not lash out at the others: only at Xiba, who had eaten both of the coneys which he and Maxi had captured and prepared and were going to feed to all of the party. Ignacio then turned to the others, with a grim look on his face.

"Supper is cancelled," he stated. "For his punishment, young Xiba has the first watch."

The camp was grim and mirthless as they settled down to rest. Glinda feared that some reprimand would be given her, for it had been her vote that had allowed Xiba and the others to journey along with them. Not only had they been much delayed by the younger members of their company, who were not fit for long-distance travel, but Xiba had eaten all of their food twice, and evidently felt no remorse or shame for his decision. But her fears were groundless, for she fell into sleep without so much as a murmur of complaint against her.

* * *

Hilde, who had the third watch, was hard-pressed to keep her eyes open when she heard a voice cry out in fear. Standing at attention, she drew her sword, eager to fight off whoever had attacked them. The moon was high and shone its light upon the plateau, and she could see no sign of an attack. As she returned to her watch, she heard a voice weeping. Even through the heavy sigh of Ignacio, exhausted from a long day's march and a futile hunt, or Xiba's loud snores, she could tell which one was weeping. Carefully, so as to not disturb them, she crawled over to the farthest end of the plateau, where Glinda lay, all huddled off by herself and sobbing.

"Glinda," she whispered. "What's wrong? Why are you weeping?" Hilde reached out to place her hand on Glinda's shoulder in comfort, but the little blond girl cringed in fear.

"No, no, no, please!" she cried. "Just leave me alone! I'll never come here again, just leave me alone!"

"Peace, Glinda, it was only a dream," Hilde assured her. "You're on the hillside, you're with friends. All is well."

"No, it isn't," Glinda sobbed, shaking her head. "I...I dreamed I was back there, in that-that horrible city. There were faces, leering down at me from out of the darkness. Faces of men, ugly and all painted white and black. They were jeering at me, laughing me, tormenting me, I could feel their hands, like claws of iron, grabbing out at..." She cried again, burying her face in her hands.

"There's no one here, Glinda," Hilde whispered. "Just you and I. We're safe."

"No, we're not safe," Glinda wept. "You have no idea what I've been through. Oh, how can I ever go back to the way I was after I've seen so much rottenness?" She sniffled back her tears for a moment. "You know, I used to think that bad people were bad because they never tried to be good. Now, I see that that's not the case: there are some people who just...love...to hurt other people."

Hilde had no answer to this, but placed her hand on Glinda's shoulder. She did not recoil from this. For a moment, Glinda wanted to cry again, call out Elphaba's name, as if they were in the safety of the land of the elves, resting beneath white-boughed _mallorn_ trees. But she knew better, and she spoke to no one about Elphaba. That would be her burden to bear, when the time was right. They had their glory and their duty to destroy Soul Edge, but she had another goal and duty.

To her Elphie.

* * *

**(AN: Nice place to cut it off, since this chapter was of decent length.) **

**(Several references to other parts of the _Ozian Adventures_ series and other such, so I restate that I don't own _Lord of the Rings_. We also get to see a bit more of Ignacio's nicer side. And I know that the Eastern characters [Xiba, Leixia and Natsu] are very two dimensional, but just bear with me. Something else amazing is just around the corner.)  
**


	21. Confrontation

**(AN: New chapter! Also, I know how this will end. I think I can do at least two more stories once this one is done, or I can combine those two into the biggest one of the _Ozian Adventures_ yet. One other thing I'd like to do is combine the three first _Ozian Adventures_ stories [the ones based on _LittleGreenFae's_ Lord of the Rings/Wicked crossover] into one long one. Should I take that up, or just go right to the next story in this series?)  
**

**(For now, see how the climax of our story comes about)  
**

* * *

**Confrontation**

When morning had arisen, both Glinda and Hilde were sore. She had fallen asleep during the night, trying to calm Glinda down, and Glinda had grown so tired from weeping and shaking that she had fallen asleep from weariness. When the sun finally rose, everyone was weary and unwilling to continue, not when Xiba had eaten all their food. However, their quest awaited them and they had no other choice.

The Edge Master, true to his word, showed Glinda how to use a sword. Though she was sleepy, dreary and sorrowful, she followed his instructions to the letter and was an earnest student. Finally, she could be of some real use, not only among the group but if she left them and joined the others on their adventures. Hilde joined as well and Cassandra, eager to be close to the sword of her sister, she joined the training. Now Glinda had three different teachers, all of which made her training go by quite well.

By the time the sun had finally cleared the mountains, they gathered up their things and made their way back up the path towards the top of the mountain. Rather than going straight up, as it had thus far, the path now wrapped around the side of the mountain. Here they would go, where they would be able to see any trail, whether of bodies or of burning buildings, that would lead them to where they needed to go. By now, they themselves didn't know where they were going, only that they were going somewhere.

At mid-day, they came upon another plateau like the one they had rested at yesterday. It cut sharply into the side of the mountain, leaving a smooth wall on the one side and a sheer drop on the other side. The open side, as predicted, gave them a perfect view of the west country for miles around. Here they rested at last, as a cool wind from the upper regions of the mountains cooled their faces from the long hike.

All were silent as they looked out upon the lands below, not speaking a word and their breath quiet among the wind. The land below looked beautiful, belying the overall dull and grayness of this hard, cold, mirthless world. For Glinda, it held a kind of strange magic: both brutal and ugly and, at the same time, overwhelming and beautiful. She wondered once again if she would ever find peace, even as this landscape was peaceful.

"Well," she said, breaking the silence at last. "Here we are, and what exactly are we looking for?"

"What we have seen so far," the Edge Master replied at last.

They looked again down into the valley and the lands below. But all looked at peace: no sign of burning villages could be seen as far as the eye could see. Even on the mountains nearby, there were no signs of destruction.

"Nothing," Cassandra sighed. "We've come the wrong way."

"But there's no way we can go back," Ignacio said. "We have no food, thanks to _some_ of our party."

Xiba chattered away in his language, and Maxi translated: "He says he's hungry still."

"Hungry?" Glinda sighed. "You ate all our food, now we have no means of getting back home, and you're _still_ hungry?"

"Wait..."

"He says he can't help that he's hungry." Maxi translated.

"And you couldn't restrain yourself, even on this very important mission?" Glinda replied.

"Wait..."

"Natsu says that you're not being nice to Xiba," Maxi added as the crazy-haired blond girl chattered away in Xiba's defense.

"Not being nice? And what do you call what he did to...ow!"

Her head leered forward, and an uncomfortable knot began growing on her head. A tiny rock lay at her feet. All eyes turned to see who the one had been who threw the rock at Glinda's head. Standing there, with sword in hand, was the one they had been looking for: days upon days they had marched, searching in vain for him, and he had found them in the end. Behind him cowered a little girl, no taller than Natsu, with blond hair and heavy-lidded eyes that were glowing yellow. Her right arm, pointed, horned and deformed, was cradled in her left arm. But it was the boy Glinda remembered: blond haired, dressed in blue and black, with a single sword in his hand and a confident look on his face.

"You again!" Patroklos shouted, pointing his sword at Glinda. "You _malfested_ never learn!"

"There he is!" shouted Ignacio, drawing his sword and shield in return.

"Wha-who are they?" the girl behind Patroklos whined. "Agh! My head...hurts!"

"Don't worry, Pyrrha!" the boy replied. "I won't let them hurt you. I won't let anyone get between us ever again."

"Patroklos?" Cassandra asked, stepping forward. "It's me, it's your auntie Cassandra."

"Liar!" he shouted, his voice cracking and shaking in fear. "You're that _malfestor_, the evil sword Soul Calibur come back." He started stammering in fear. "B-But I killed you. You should be dead!"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked.

"N-No!" Patroklos continued muttering. "I-I didn't kill innocent people. They were _malfested_, all of them."

"I'm so...hungry!" growled the girl behind Patroklos, the one called Pyrrha. Her eyes glowed yellow.

"Listen, my son," the Edge Master walked up, approaching Patroklos. "All is well. You are among friends. Just tell us where the Sword is, that's all we want to know."

"He-He was wrong," the girl muttered, speaking more to herself than to them. "We destroyed the other sword, the evil one, the one that made us hurt, the one that kept us apart. But the other one survived. We thought we destroyed it, but it survived. Then the mean one took it, and we wanted it back. It's ours, it won't leave us alone, it will understand."

"No, my love!" Patroklos murmured. "We don't need Soul Edge. You have me, and you don't need anyone else." He then turned back to the others, a maniacal look in his eyes, even as Glinda had seen in Elphaba's eyes when she had 'lost' her mind after Fiyero's 'death.'

"You're _**all** malfested!_" he shouted over-dramatically. "You all deserve to die!"

"He's gone mad!" Ignacio warned the others, leveling his sword. "Defend yourselves!"

Once again, Patroklos attacked them, taunting them as he engaged them one by one. Ignacio was the first one he approached, and the one who fought the longest. He had a shield and Patroklos only had a sword and though he was fast, Ignacio was an iron will, a soul of adamant. Forged in the fires of war and tempered in the New World, he was a force to be reckoned with. Nevertheless, he was weak from a long travel and lack of food. Patroklos, knowing that he could not stand toe to toe with Ignacio, kicked dust up into his eyes. The warrior staggered back, suddenly blinded.

"What's the matter?" Patroklos mocked. "Too weak to stand against a real warrior?"

"Foul play!" Ignacio shouted.

"There are no rules when fighting _malfested_ such as you!" Patroklos shouted back.

To his rescue came Hilde, who fought with just as great valiance and strength. Though she, like Ignacio, was encumbered by heavy armor, hunger and weariness, her lance kept Patroklos at bay and out of reach, since he had no shield and his sword was too short to hit her while keeping himself out of reach of her lance.

"Coward!" he returned.

"You're one to talk, with your underhanded tactics!" she retorted.

"What are you looking at?" Maxi turned back to the others. "Let's go!"

The Easterners took up their weapons and joined the fray. Maxi wielded two short wooden sticks on a chain, and had even shorter reach than Patroklos. Meanwhile, Leixia was taking her time with her sword and her cumbersome dress. Cassandra, meanwhile, kept her shield up to defend Glinda and Leixia while the Edge Master joined the fight against Patroklos. Glinda had only her sword, and knew not how she could defend herself against this arrogant warrior. She had tried once, and only survived by accident, but the staff had gone silent. No matter what words she spoke to it, it did not reveal itself.

_What do I do now?_ she wondered to herself.

"_Arahabaki!_" shouted Natsu, drawing two small swords from her belt and leaping at lightning speed into the battle. But she was not fast enough. The little girl had jumped her from behind and was now wrestling her to the ground, her tiny left hand holding Natsu by the throat.

"Such power," sighed Pyrrha hungrily. "Such...evil."

Before Glinda's horrified eyes, she saw how the bodies they had seen had been disemboweled. Pyrrha thrust her engorged right arm into Natsu's chest and began tearing her apart. The poor girl's cries chilled them all to the bone, and it seemed so odd that something so innocent and fair could be so vile.

"_Méiyǒu!_" shouted Leixia. She jumped up, short sword in hand, and charged at the blood-stained Pyrrha, eager to avenge her fallen friend. Pyrrha, eager for another kill, stood up and began approaching her, a hideous glare in her eyes. Suddenly she was upon her and threw her to the ground. Her tongue lapping over her lips, she knelt down, eager to put an end to Leixia as well.

"_Shíwù!_" Xiba cried as he jumped to Leixia's defense. The little girl had not a weapon, only a shield, and could do nothing more than cower behind it against the fury of Xiba's staff. Energetic beyond belief and well fed, at the expense of the endurance and strength of his comrades, he was quicker and lasted longer than the others.

"_Bàgōng!_" he shouted out loud. With one swift strike, he had struck Pyrrha on the head with his staff and she crumbled to the ground.

"Pyrrha!" Patroklos cried. His eyes turned in wrath towards Xiba. "Come here, you stupid _malfested!_ I'll make you eat that evil staff of yours!"

"No!" the Edge Master interjected. He now stood between Xiba and Patroklos, his hands holding back the young man's blade. "Don't you see that you were used by the Evil Sword? You have caused the destruction of the Spirit Sword, and allowed the Evil Sword to go unchecked. The darkness will consume us all because of you."

"Lies, all lies!" he returned. "I don't need it, I don't need any of you _malfested_, all I care about is Pyrrha." He turned back to her and gave a cry. Everyone was shocked as they also saw what he was looking at. There the little girl lay, smaller as though she had shrunk somewhat, but was still the same size. Her right arm looked the same now as her left arm.

"What did you do to her?" Patroklos shouted, turning back to the others.

"We cured her," the Edge Master said. "She's finally free, as it should have been years ago. Now you can go home and find peace."

"No! There's no peace while you _malfested_ continue to exist!" Patroklos returned. "You took her away from me, I'll kill you for it!" He then engaged the Edge Master in fierce battle.

Glinda, meanwhile, was looking in awe at Pyrrha. Strange it seemed to her as to how she could have been cured of whatever evil had corrupted her. For, when she saw the arm and the eyes and heard her voice, she guessed that she had been corrupted by some great evil, and right she was. From behind Cassandra's shield, she had noticed the goings on of the battle. Xiba had hit Pyrrha with his staff, which had knocked her to the ground: after that, she had changed.

But while she was looking about, she turned to Leixia. She was lying on the ground, exhausted from a long march without food and now unable to recover after her fight with Patroklos. Glinda noticed something blue lying on her neck. A strange desire came over her to crawl over there, while the Edge Master and Patroklos were debating, and take the blue thing, or at least to see what it was and thus ease the strange desire to see it. She was within reach and would not have to go far. Already, it seemed that the old man and the arrogant youth were already deeply engaged that they would not notice her if she quietly and quickly reached over to Leixia's fallen form and...

"Revenge is not the way, son," the Edge Master continued. "Can't you see that you have been misled by your own thirst for blood?"

"I was not misled!" Patroklos shouted. "I am no man's puppet!"

"We hold nothing against you," the old man returned. "Just lay down your sword..."

"Surrender, like a wimp, a coward!" the young man retorted. "I am the Holy Warrior, and I will not yield to _malfested_ like yourself!"

"Child, you know I am not corrupted," the Edge Master pleaded. "Please, let go of this futile, selfish quest before Soul Edge destroys us all!"

"There is no Soul Edge!" Patroklos returned. "I destroyed it, and Soul Calibur as well. The world is at peace!" He turned about, arms stretched as though speaking to someone else.

Suddenly, the clouds were growing dark and the light was being cut off. A strong wind blew upon the mountain-side, striking them all where they stood. It was hard to see anything, for the wind was blowing in their faces and cut off all most sight.

"Do it now!"

A voice was suddenly crying. She looked this way and that, and noticed that people were looking for the one who was speaking. Glinda then saw that one of them, only one, was looking at something other than the speaker. He was the one being looked at, for he was the one who was speaking, and speaking at _her_.

"Take it!" Ignacio said, looking directly at Glinda. "It's the only way."

With a quick nod, she continued on her way towards Leixia's fallen body. Patroklos started moving towards her, an angry look in his eyes. But the others rose to her defense. Her heart warmed, and she suddenly felt strength coursing through her body. It wasn't too much, but she knew it would be enough. On her hands and knees, she crawled over to Leixia's body and reached out at her neck. Her fingers closed around a warm thing of crystal, so similar that she almost felt as though she had seen this before.

"Here!" shouted Ignacio. "Come to me! Take my..."

But his words were suddenly cut out by the roar of thunder. The sky darkened even deeper, red bolts of lightning split the sky. A sudden gust of smoke appeared on the hillside: the wind became filled with the acrid stench of sulfur and fire burst upon the hill. The others cowered away, and Glinda covered her eyes in fear.

As the dust settled, Glinda felt her heart stop and freeze beneath her chest. Of all the dreams and nightmares, the doubts and fears, she had endured for all the time she had been in this world, it was nothing compared to seeing this in the living world, a shade out of the Mirror of Galadriel. But no shade it was, but a living thing. She could feel the heat from the fire that gathered around the black-booted feet, she could smell the stench of sulfur stinging her nostrils, and she could see the figure as she had once known it. Tall, thin and boney and dressed in black, and black was the long sea of raven hair. The figure turned around, and Glinda sobbed in horror as she saw what she had dreaded ever since the vision she had seen in the Void about Denevér Castle. The right arm had been gnarled and deformed, like Pyrrha's, an engorged and misshapen claw of three fingers, each with a deadly talon. But while Pyrrha's had been smaller and weaker, this was larger and more fel than the one that had afflicted the little Greek girl.

A flash of green was seen from beneath the strands of black hair, blowing in the wind, as the dark figure turned its yellow eyes towards them.

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**(AN: Review review review review! No spoilers in the author's notes, but I want you to review! We're so close to the end, that I want you to review. If you've been saving up your time until now, review!)**

**(Oh look, I had Xiba be important to the progression of the story. Kali-Yuga, the staff he wields [though he doesn't even know its name], is capable of curing those corrupted by Soul Edge [it certainly worked on Voldo]. So was Leixia, but you will see that in the next chapter. And Ignacio, at the insistence of my brother, who created the character in _Soul Calibur V_ and is the co-creator of his story [which will be posted upon a convenient time], has also got his importance level increased.)  
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**(New chapter coming soon...now REVIEW!)  
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	22. Glinda's Burden

**(AN: Originally another name for an earlier chapter, but I scrapped that when writing the story and then retained the title for this chapter [told you it would be out soon!])  
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**Glinda's Burden**

It was all too much to believe, yet it was right there before her eyes. All of her worst nightmares proven true, every fear made manifest. Now there she was, weak from hunger and exhaustion, with a short sword in her pocket and Leixia's necklace in her hand, caught in a moment of fear between the realization of this dreadful truth.

_This can't be!_ she thought.

"This can't be!" Patroklos whined, mirroring her thoughts. "I-I destroyed you. You-you shouldn't exist. I-I-I-I destroyed Soul Edge! This can't be...this can't be!"

The sound of metal clattering to the ground was heard and Patroklos ran down the hill, hands covering his ears and screams echoing from his lips as he ran for his life. Left behind, to face the wrath of Soul Edge, was the one he had betrayed his friends and destroyed Soul Calibur to save: Pyrrha. In his attempt to keep her with him for all time, he had abandoned her.

Now they were alone against a beast, burning and powerful beyond belief. It had the Sword, unbridled now by Soul Calibur's loss and was stronger than before. Even worse, it was now in the hands of a madwoman, rich with magical powers surpassing anything the Sword had known. But it was worse than this, much worse than just a simple beast, a monster to be destroyed.

It was Elphaba.

"The pawn has played its course," an inhuman voice growled. It was not the voice of Elphaba, rain-beautiful when mellow and razor-sharp when angry: it was even worse. It didn't even sound like her. For Glinda, she could see something else happening, a heart beating in the giant sword that was alive, part metal and part living flesh, with a single red eye in the middle, where the hilt met the blade.

"Yes, it was useful in the beginning," the Inferno continued. "It destroyed the other one, and brought the Sword into better hands."

"Why are you telling us this?" the Edge Master said, the first one to break the silence.

"It means little," the Inferno replied. "You will feed our hunger soon."

The witch lifted the Sword up and swung at the Edge Master. Glinda saw him draw out his sword and defend himself, only to find himself against an opponent stronger than himself. Hilde joined his side with Maxi while Cassandra ran over to Pyrrha's side, shield up and ready to defend her niece from the emerald demon. Leixia was still unconscious, with Xiba standing over her with his staff raised in defense. Glinda saw the huge arm dragging Natsu's body towards it. But there was one person who was not fighting, one who, aside from her, seemed already defeated.

Ignacio.

"Ignacio," she shouted. "What's wrong?"

"Hand!" he groaned, his voice barely carrying over the roar of the fire that erupted around the emerald witch. "Give me your hand! I can help, just give me your hand."

Glinda nodded.

"And don't let go of the amulet!" he added.

About them, the witch held Natsu's body in her right hand. Already it looked paler and more dead than before. The eye in the Sword was twitching with delight, the huge pupil swollen to an enormous void of endless hunger.

"Such a powerful soul..." growled the Inferno.

Meanwhile, Glinda was crawling across the ground, the amulet in one hand. It was warm in her hand, giving her confidence and hope in the midst of this dark hour. It was whispering into her ear, telling her to keep going. It was so close, just a few feet more to be within reach of Ignacio. But what would happen then?

A heavy boot fell onto her back, pinning her in place. She was stuck now, incapable of moving. Worse than that, she was burning. She could feel a great heat glowering down from above her, burning the air in her lungs and devouring her will to move.

"You've been looking for me," the Inferno roared. "We noticed your eyes looking when she fought the last host. But you've gone too far, foolish little child."

"Elphie, please!" she begged. "Please, you're hurting me!"

"Your friend is dead!" it roared back to her.

"Help!" she cried out, though she could not guess why.

Suddenly, an armored hand closed around hers. She suddenly felt warm: not the heat of the fire, but a comfortable warmth that made her feel strong, impenetrable, diamond hard, like a tiny colossus of silver and _mithril_. She was now back on her feet, facing the green-skinned monster before her. She noticed that she was suddenly clad in strange armor, like thousands of white crystals growing across her body in a sheet of impregnable armor. In her hand was the Last Sword, now fused with crystals. She felt strong again, safe and warm. Everything was alright now, and at last she understood. Patroklos had been the fool. He had not destroyed every piece. One piece survived from Denevér Castle, and that she had carried with her innocuously for so long. The other had been on Leixia's necklace: the other piece knew of its position, it knew the location of its mate. The last piece, however, she didn't know where it came from. But she didn't care, for now she knew there was hope.

Soul Calibur had returned.

"Elphie, please!" she held up her hands, waving the Last Sword-Soul Calibur away from the being before her. "Remember me? It's Glinda! I'm here to help you."

"I don't want your help!" growled the Inferno.

"You're hurt, I know you are," Glinda continued. "That-That thing, the one who hurt you, before..."

"Loki is gone," it returned. "I am controlled by no one!"

"You-You said 'I'," Glinda noted. "Twice. You're still in control? But-but the Sword, it's trying to control you. You can't let it control you."

"Like how you're letting Soul Calibur control you?"

"Elphie, just let it go!" Glinda dismissed. "I want you to come back with me. Please, you have people back home, people who love you. Fiyero, Nessa, your son, Boq and...and me."

She was circling around the beast. It was so hard to believe that this thing could ever have been Elphaba. It had Elphaba's face, her chocolate brown eyes - flecked with fire rather than lines of silver - her raven black hair (Glinda could still detect, through the sulfur and the fire, the distinct smell of bluesap oil), and the long, clever green fingers of her left hand were still the same. Everything was there that made her resemble the Elphaba Thropp she knew.

But it wasn't the same, she knew it in her heart. The Elphaba she knew was not a beast, she had no lust for power, for destruction or killing people.

"I can see the doubt in your eyes," the green-skinned witch said. "The fear. You're wondering what I've become, and if there is anything left of your friend. Trust me, she is still here."

"No, I can't believe it." Glinda shook her head. "The things you've done...all the lives you've killed..."

"Ahh," the witch seethed with delight. "You've guessed rightly. Those towns were in my way, and the children were hiding there. They were inconsequential, feeding the lust of the Sword."

"You...you killed them!" Glinda gasped, aghast with horror. "But there were animals in that village!"

"Do you only now realize it?" the witch replied. "You have known for much longer, I told you countless times before. I never cared about animals or Animals: all I wanted was attention, and now I will have it at the forefront of the end of the world."

"No, I don't believe that!" Glinda shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Believe whatever fantasy you will," the witch retorted. "I am not the hero you believed me to be. Soul Edge or no, I am Elphaba Thropp. I do not love, I do not care and I will not return to the lie that you call a life. This..." She hefted the giant sword in her right arm. "...is my reality. This is my religion, my purpose, my meaning, my way: the destruction of all who stand in my way."

Glinda was frozen in place, fearful of what she had just heard. She had heard Elphaba speak about how she had used the Animals to get attention, in her dreams from the duplicate, but she had never believed her: she believed that Elphaba had been depressed due to her heavily hormonal pregnancy and was speaking out of hysteria, not out of true belief in what she said. But here were those same words spoken again, but they sounded wrong, ugly, twisted and evil, coming from the lips of...

_No, that's not my Elphie, there's no way that's her!_ her thoughts screamed in her head.

"You're not speaking sense, Elphie!" she sobbed, her other hand clenching the hilt of her sword. "And when this is all over, I will find you again. I promise you, I will not rest until I've found a way to save you."

"Save me from this?" the witch leered, and suddenly the hideous mask was back on her face. Glinda had seen that mask before, and it sickened her. It was a mask created by Elphaba's innate magic, as a defense mechanism when she went into battle. It frightened Dorothy, it frightened the orcs and Easterlings, and now it frightened her, a mask that made the green witch's face look hideously ugly, if any uglier it could be after being corrupted by the Sword. She jumped back, both hands still on her sword.

"I'll see you dead and devour your soul before that happens!" she added.

"Elphie, please, come away with me. Leave all this behind while we still..."

"Silence, b*tch! Now fight!"

The witch raised her sword, burning with fire, and brought it down upon Glinda's head. But something else was whispering into Glinda's ear: a voice in Elphaba's voice, soft and beautiful, yet sorrowful and resolute. It was the voice of the spirit Elysium, she guessed, for...for she dared not believe what her eyes were showing her. Elysium guided the Sword in Glinda's hand, turning the blow. Again Soul Edge was brought down to bear on her, and again Elysium guided her hand to defend herself. This exchange lasted for seventeen blows, all the while Glinda was giving ground, walking in a circle. For there was nowhere to go: downhill the way they had come would mean a loss of sure footing, and she could not go uphill. To one side was the wall of the cliff, and to the other, a drop so long she knew nothing could survive if it fell from off its height.

"You're fighting a losing battle," the witch growled in mockery. "I can see it in your stance, feel it in your weak defense. What's the matter, Glinda? Are you afraid? Don't want to engage your precious Elphie?" She swung again, but the blow was turned. "Then lay down your sword and accept death."

"Not..." Glinda shouted, fending off another blow. "If there's a chance..." She jumped aside as another wide blow from the witch struck the ground where she had a moment ago been standing. "...that I..." The Spirit Sword directed itself up, now holding guard against the advance of the Cursed Sword. The two blades were now grinding together, the witch trying to use her strength against the little blond, still green in the art of sword-fighting and weak from days without end of marching without food.

"Yes?" the witch leered.

"That I can save you!" she groaned under the strain.

The witch cast her down, every bit of her crystal armor clinking and crunching as she fell backwards to the ground. With anger burning in her eyes, the witch walked towards her and seized her by the neck with her right hand. Glinda almost vomited upon feeling the cold, sickly flesh of the deformed hand grasping around her neck. Suddenly, the hand started to tighten its grip around her neck, and her vision started to fade. She called out Elphaba's name over and over, but the witch seemed unmoved by her entreaties.

Out of the inferno that gathered behind the witch, Ignacio appeared, sword in hand, and struck the witch from the side.

"Fight me!" he shouted, striking his sword upon the surface of his shield. "Fight me, dammit! I'm the one you want."

Glinda was released, but she fell perilously close to the edge of the cliff. Slowly pushing herself up, she turned and looked about. Though she saw nothing, or her sight was faded, she could see something of Ignacio and the witch. He was there, like two burning beacons, one of blue light and one of burning shadow. The witch, however, was a great burning shadow, like that thing out of the depths of Moria, only darker and seemingly older. Glinda was almost reminded of her vision of the glass that had been her when she was duplicated.

"Glinda, do it!" he shouted. "You have your opening, strike now!"

But that moment of speech was dearly purchased. The witch found an opening and struck Ignacio down to the ground. Then, with eyes raging with anger, she turned to Glinda, sword turned towards her.

"Make your peace, Glinda," roared the witch. "Your soul is mine!"

"Elphie, please, come back! This isn't you! Come back!"

The sword was raised. Glinda's mind buzzed with the words of Elysium. She was on the edge of the cliff and if she hesitated, even for a moment, she would be run through with the Evil Sword. Even if she were not run through, she would surely be knocked backwards off the side of the hill. Death awaited at every turn, but there was one death before her, one Glinda did not wish to see, and yet the only one that saw her alive for the moment.

She raised her sword back, as far back as her face. Tears were flooding her vision and she shut her eyes. With a hopeless, forlorn cry, she drove Soul Calibur forward.

When she opened her eyes, she saw her friend, Elphaba, lying on her back on the ground. The Spirit Sword was lying in her chest, where Glinda had thrust it. She threw herself towards her fallen friend, removing the Sword without a thought. A tiny spot of crystal was growing where the Sword had struck through her.

"You...you killed me..." sighed the witch, in surprise.

"I..." Glinda began, but found herself choked with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

The witch leaned up and, to Glinda's surprise, spat in her face. She wiped her face off, then cradled the witch's head in her arms. The mask was gone, and once again, there was the face of her friend, of Elphaba. The tears flowed down greater than before. She didn't want to believe that she had actually done this, that she had actually raised her hand against her beloved Elphie.

"I...I can help you," Glinda said, as she gently stroked the raven locks of her friend's head. "I can make this all better, Elphie. I _will_, I promise you!"

"I don't want your help," Elphaba sighed. Glinda could still see the hate in those eyes, those big brown eyes, which she knew just as well as Fiyero. But she couldn't believe that her Elphie had come to this, betraying the Animals, betraying her loved ones, all for...power? This wasn't Elphie, it couldn't be.

But the evidence of her eyes showed the exact opposite. This _was_ Elphaba, she _had_ done those things, and now she was going to die for them.

"Elphie, don't go! I can save you! Please, you can't go! Think about Fifi, about Nessa, about Liir. They need you...ah..._I_ need you!"

A hand, iron strong even in death, reached up and seized hold of the crystals on Glinda's back. Slowly, the face of green was drawn closer to Glinda's face. The hand was growing cold, and in a little while it would all be over. But the witch, Elphaba, had one last thing to say. Glinda listened with eagerness, hoping that, at last, Elphaba would say something tender, something loving, some final message to her loved ones.

"I...hate...you..." she breathed.

"No, you don't mean that!" Glinda wept, shaking her head. "Elphie..."

The witch gasped, a horrid, rasping noise that Glinda would never forget as long as she lived. It sounded like two stones being dragged across each other. As soon as it had come, it was over. Her chocolate brown eyes, flecked once more with lines of silver, were open: but there was no life in them. Glinda couldn't believe it, and she placed her hand on Elphaba's cheek. It was stone cold, yet still felt like flesh. She pulled the face close to her chest, as though her own body could warm it. She buried her face in Elphaba's hair and wept.

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**(AN: Not the ending you want, but we still have one more chapter to go, I think.)**

**(The ending symbolizes both a part on Glinda's path to maturity, as well as the death of _Wicked_ for this author. Yes, after four years, I'm pretty sure that the magic has died out of _Wicked_ for me. Perhaps that is why these stories became so hard to write, because the magic was dead and I had no heart to continue.)  
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	23. Remember

**(AN:)**

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**Remember**

The field of battle, a plateau in the mountains of northern Hungary. The smoke and the fire and cleared, and now only a gray haze fell over the world as night was setting in upon the hilltop. Glinda and Cassandra alone had escaped any real hurt. Ignacio was wounded, but on his feet. Maxi was sporting some bad cuts across his shirtless chest, Hilde's armor had been bent and broken and Xiba had a bruise on his head along with Leixia, who had hit her head when she fell. Whatever had happened to Pyrrha had healed her infection, the right arm was now no different than the left arm, but she was incredibly weak and had to be carried by Cassandra. The Edge Master had taken the worst wounds and was unconscious. Natsu, of course, was dead, along with the witch. Patroklos had fled and was nowhere to be found.

"Well done," Ignacio said, walking towards Glinda and placing his grimy hand on her shoulder. "You've saved us all..."

"'Well done?'" she replied, sorrow in her voice. "'Well done?' Elphie is dead! You call that well done?"

"Glinda, I didn't mean that, I'm..."

"You!" she held Soul Calibur in her hand. "Why couldn't you save her?" With a furious cry, she tossed the sword at the mountain side, where its blade stuck fast into the rock. The crystalline armor, meanwhile, began slowly falling of her body, until she was once again clad only in her white dress.

"Don't!" the Edge Master's voice called out. Slowly, he began to rise from where he lay, his eyes creaking open.

"Don't what?" Glinda sobbed, anger rising in her voice.

"Don't blame...the Sword," he said. "Sacrifices...are always made...by those...who fight...for good. That's just...the way...of things. It is...inevitable."

"Inevitable?" Glinda replied. "She was my friend!"

"That doesn't make it any less painful, I know," Ignacio replied.

"'You know?'" she mocked. "How do you know?"

"I also have lost loved ones in this battle for the swords," he answered. "I once blamed the swords as you do. But...I learned that life is cruel, and we cannot always have our way, even with the power of the swords."

Silence fell among them all, as Glinda was too heartbroken to speak and Ignacio had to tend to the others. For a while, there was nothing but the wind and the sound of clanking armor. Then Glinda turned about as she heard a voice crying out in pain.

"What's wrong?" she exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"No, I mean yes!" grunted Ignacio. Glinda gasped as she saw that he was now holding _both_ swords, Soul Edge in his left and Soul Calibur in his right. "Don't worry," he gasped, catching his breath. "They are in good hands now."

"Whose hands?" she asked.

"Mine."

"And what's so special about you?"

"The same could be said about you," he returned. "But, as for me, I have been personally attached to the swords for many years. My destiny is tied with the Swords." He then turned to her and nodded. "You are free, Glinda."

"Free?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I feel your part in this quest is done. Godspeed, child of Oz."

One by one they departed. Glinda was once again alone, with the body of Elphaba. Maxi and Xiba had carried Natsu's body down with them. Alone once again, she broke down into tears, unrestrained and heartfelt. For them, the journey was over, the task complete and they could return home in triumph. For her, she had failed. The one she sought had forsook her until the bitter end.

_No,_ she told herself. _This isn't Elphaba. The Elphie I know would have never done such horrible things._

At last she came to a startling conclusion. Looking upon what was left of her friend, the hideous, awful ruin of the Wicked Witch of the West, she came to the conclusion that, though she had struck it down, this was not her friend. The real Elphaba Thropp had died long before, killed by the creature she had now struck down.

_Now,_ she said. _I have to go back and tell them all...what? The truth? That Elphaba betrayed us all, for power and that I killed her? _

No, she could not do that. It would be their ruin. At the very worst, she would keep the secret to the grave and make up some story. It would be like Oz all over, but she could not bear to see the others ruined, broken-hearted and miserable as she was now. Maybe that was how her relationship with Elphaba had always been: misunderstandings and lies to cover up the truth.

_Oz, will there ever be a true moment between us?_ she thought. _No, I guess not. She's gone now, betrayed by that creature._

But even as she told that to herself, she began to remember things, things that she knew she had not experienced. Yet she knew these were true, even if she had not been present for these events. Now she saw the image of Kumbricia, as ancient as Oz itself yet as beautiful as ever. She was saying things, and in Glinda's heart, she knew that she was right. The witch was dead, it had betrayed and murdered Elphaba. But there was more to it than that, she had to remember. Then, like a flash of lightning, there it was.

_A witch does not die_, she had said. _She might disappear, but she will always find ways of returning._

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**(AN: Well, for a moment, I thought that I had killed off Elphaba for good. Obviously, from a purely story view point, I _should_ keep her dead for good, because death is supposed to be feared because it is inescapable. However, as the final word said, that cannot be.)**

**(Also, after a lovely live-chat with Eden Espinosa [yes, _the_ Eden Espinosa], I got inspiration to continue. So, for now, we bid farewell to the tale of souls and swords, for a new journey is on the horizon [title unknown].)  
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**(Thank you, _ComingAndGoingByBubble_, for your dedicated reviews. A new story will be coming soon, and you will receive the answer to many questions of the story. If you have any specific questions, go ahead and ask them. The more questions you give, the more stuff that shall be answered in the next story and the more incentive I have to write. So go ahead, don't be shy.)  
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